


Murder the Dawn

by idrilhadhafang



Series: A Different Galaxy [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Dark Character, F/M, Gen, au big bang, cursory knowledge of clone wars, dark obi-wan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-24
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-12 19:23:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 46
Words: 43,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilhadhafang/pseuds/idrilhadhafang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obi-Wan Kenobi is supposedly the perfect Knight. Padme Amidala is a Dark Jedi dreaming of a better galaxy. And Anakin Skywalker is the Chosen One, destined to bring balance to the Force. When their paths collide, the consequences have far-reaching effects not only for themselves, but the galaxy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Originally written for the AU Big Bang. Originally started out as simply a Sith Padme story before it went off the rails. Hope it's enjoyable nonetheless. Also warnings for violence and character deaths in later chapters.

It feels like a lifetime since he returned to Tatooine. He can’t say that he has good memories of it (most of all, he remembers Watto, and Gardulla the Hutt, and the beatings, with a few good things in between – he remembers Kitster, he remembers Wald, and he remembers so many others – do they still remember him, after all this time?), but even now, returning to Tatooine seems perversely fitting.

 

At the very least, it doesn’t feel the same without R2 by his side. R2 has been a constant companion to him – and now...now he’s gone. No doubt to watch over Obi-Wan’s children, after all this time.

 

The woman beside him is a small, slender young woman – her build underlies her strength. Not only physically, but mentally – he still can’t believe that he’s allied with her after all this time, especially considering that the first time they met, they were enemies. She was trying so hard to follow Sidious’ orders, trying to rebuild the Republic that she felt was decaying – no doubt neither of them realized that Sidious had...other plans in mind.

 

He still can’t believe that Sidious was actually the Chancellor all along. If anything, if someone had actually said that to him, he would have shouted them down – because they were wrong.

 

Because Chancellor Palpatine was a good man. Because the Chancellor would never have been allying himself with the Separatists the entire time – or at the very least, playing them against the Republic. Playing them like a harp, so to speak.

 

And yet...

 

“Are you all right?” the young woman asks. She’s a beautiful young woman, with dark hair and soft features, and expressive amber eyes – for a moment, Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One

 

_what a horrific joke_

can see traces of the girl she could have been – if Sidious had not led her astray.

 

He has no authority to judge her. He has not been in the same position she has – except for the fact that they were both slaves, in a way. Her to Sidious, him to Watto and the Hutts after all these years.

 

“I am,” he says. “Except...” He breaks off – even remembering Obi-Wan hurts. Obi-Wan was not what you called the most open man – his relationship with Obi-Wan was complicated, to say the least – but there were times, with his wry humor, his bravery, his kindness, his _laughter_ , that Anakin could see another side of him – at least of sorts.

 

“You miss Obi-Wan, don’t you?” The Sith woman – Padmè, he should call her now. It’s only right – reaches up and gently touches his cheek – it’s such a gentle gesture, such a simple gesture, and yet somehow, something inside him shivers.

 

“Yes,” he says. “For my part.”

 

“He was important to you,” Padmè says, “I can tell.”

 

Even now, something in those words ignites anger deep inside him – this is not her fault, and yet somehow, the heat spreads through him, and it _hurts_ –

 

“You weren’t there on Mustafar,” he said, “But what I saw...the man I saw on Mustafar claimed to be Obi-Wan Kenobi. He wasn’t.” Even remembering seeing Satine in such pain, dueling him in a rare violation of her pacifist ways – it was something he never wanted to see.

 

Two of his dearest friends, dueling to the death.

 

Two of his dearest friends, enemies.

 

And Obi-Wan...how far-gone he was.

 

Padmè reaches out and squeezes his hand. “We’ll be all right,” she says, “I promise.”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

He wants Obi-Wan to be back – he wants Obi-Wan and Satine to be happy as they were meant to be.

 

And yet somehow, he doubts that that will ever truly occur – ever again.


	2. Invasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Padme and Maul are ordered to invade Mandalore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This is perhaps one of my favorite chapters, come to think of it. I really loved getting inside Padme's head and figuring out what makes her tick. Come to think of it, I think that if Padme ever were a Sith, she'd be the Well-Intentioned Extremist/Noble Demon type. It just suits her character very well, I think.
> 
> Also, I think I might have gotten the Vote of No Confidence thing wrong, but I'm not quite sure. If anyone spots any errors regarding it, feel free to correct me. :)

The day that Padmè remembers most is the day that the Trade Federation decided to invade Mandalore, home of Duchess Satine Kryze. She was more than excited to finally get a chance to test her training there -- especially considering she had endlessly trained and honed her skills -- no doubt preparing for this day. Maul, she knew, had been quite eager to go through with the process.

At last we shall reveal ourselves to the Jedi, he had said to Sidious on Coruscant that night, long after Satine had been successfully tricked into giving the former Chancellor, Finis Valorum, a vote of no confidence -- all but the death sentence in terms of one's leadership. 

Even now, hearing the news from Sidious, Padme had felt something deep within her begin to bubble and rise to the surface -- was it regret? At least, disappointment that Valorum had to go down so quickly, abandoned by his own comrades

but that was the way of the Senate, was it not? As it was the way of the Sith -- although, she mused darkly, not for long. Once she had grown to challenge her master, the way of the Sith would change. And it would change for the better.

in order to make room for a better galaxy.

But then again, she guessed that she shouldn't expect that much from Valorum. From what she had seen of him as a child, he was a good man, but far too naive and easily manipulated for his own good. And no doubt that was already contributing to his downfall before he realized it.

At the very least, Lord Sidious was good at finding chinks in others' armor. She could assume he had honed those skills over the years -- that, or the Republic was so weak and corrupt and bloated that finding the weak points was, for lack of a better word, easy.

Either way, Sidious' skills were, for lack of a better word, commendable.

Sidious' words stirred her back to the present.

"Go to Mandalore and await my orders," he said. "This day will be a day long remembered -- it has seen the end of Valorum, and it will soon see the end of the Jedi."

"How is it you know the Jedi will show up?" Padme asked. "They could never be that gullible."

"Satine Kryze no doubt can no longer bear the cries of her people...the sufferings of millions," Sidious said. "She will arrive on Mandalore. And while it will be far from easy, she will bend, eventually...she will bend and she will break, and she will lose."

In the Force, Padme could practically feel Maul's body vibrate with excitement -- excitement, no doubt, at the concept of the Jedi facing their own reckoning.

"Then," he said, "Let us make them pay for everything they've done. Do you not agree, Padme?"

Padme could only nod.

"Your anger serves you well -- the both of you," Sidious said. "Go to Mandalore and await further orders from me."

"We shall," Padme said, "My lord."


	3. Chapter Two: Decisions and Revisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Satine and Jar-Jar have a chat, and Satine makes preparations to go to war against the Trade Federation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This is my first time writing Satine. I'll admit, writing her character was pretty difficult -- if anyone on my f-list spots any errors, leave some feedback. Also, writing Jar-Jar. *Sighs* This is going to be difficult...

Satine Kryze never thought that she would return to Mandalore -- if only to start a war. She was not one for war -- something that had made her more than a slight laughingstock in the Senate. They didn’t seem accustomed to the idea that Mandalorians weren’t always warriors -- if anything, the concept seemed alien to them.

And yet it was a mindset that she had taken gladly. She had seen the damage of war whilst fighting against the “True Mandalorians” -- those who wanted to return Mandalore to its ordinary warrior state, to return it to the days of plundering and ravaging planets until they were all but dry, ruined shells of their former glories. She had heard of the damage of the Mandalorian Wars -- the damage of Malachor V. She had heard of the agonies of war -- she had seen what the Trade Federation was capable of.

Fighting for peace, fundamentally, seemed so contradictory and nonsensical a term. 

There was a gentle padding of footsteps and the Gungan Jar-Jar Binks joined her by her side. He turned to look at her and she smiled, wanly -- there was something about his company that was oddly comforting. Then again, anyone’s company would be welcome in this moment -- having to vote Valorum, effectively, out of office -- even now, the look of sheer heartbreak and betrayal and, quite possibly, hatred in his eyes was enough to chill her to the bone.

Obi-Wan and the others had reassured her that she had made the right decision. Even so...she didn’t quite believe them.

“Mesa wonder why the gods invented pain.”

“To motivate us, I can imagine. I only..." Satine broke off; even thinking about it was painful. "I only wish it didn’t have to come to this. I never wanted violence.” She had, in the earliest days of her career, gone off with nothing but things like a droid deactivator, in case one had to fight against droids. But at the same time, Senator Palpatine, for example, had told her that she might have to go to war someday.

What if taking up arms is the only way to restore peace to the Republic, Duchess Satine? What then?

She had disagreed with him -- and she still stood by her decision. And yet at the same time, she had a feeling that reclaiming Mandalore would be far from easy.

Jar-Jar made a mournful noise deep in his throat, signifying that he agreed with her. They looked out at the city skyline for such a long while -- so deceptively peaceful, so deceptively untainted by war -- before, finally, Jar-Jar spoke.

“Mesa wish there was something wesa could do.”

“Actually, Jar-Jar,” Satine said, “I believe that there is something you can do for me.”

A light of excitement seemed to come into the Gungan’s eyes. “If it is in mesa power, mesa can do it.”

Satine had to suppress a smile. For whatever else she could say about the young, rather headstrong Gungan, he could be useful whenever he put his mind to it. “Send a signal to Boss Nass and the others. Tell them to come to Mandalore and assist us in our fight.”

Jar-Jar seemed to go pale. “But...they would never accept mesa back!”

“I know,” Satine said -- even now, she could tell that Jar-Jar’s banishment from Otoh Gunga for, of all things, clumsiness (which would have seemed odd if not for the fact that Gungans prided themselves on bravery, efficiency, and many other things that came in handy for, naturally, warriors. So in a way, Jar-Jar stuck out among them like the proverbial sore thumb), had still left the scars of embarrassment on him. But if he could redeem himself in the eyes of Gunga City, Satine mused, that would make all the difference in the galaxy.

***

It was long after Jar-Jar Binks managed to get into contact with Boss Nass that he felt something freeze in him. He couldn't afford to be afraid; he'd had enough of being called a coward (amongst other things) prior to being banished from Otoh Gunga for one particularly egregious act of clumsiness he preferred not to bring up too much -- really, it was only after Obi-One and Quiggon had rescued him whilst trying to find a way off Mandalore after they crash-landed (he still hadn't forgotten Obi's reaction to finding him, as if he'd never seen a Gungan on Mandalore before) that they had inquired about it, and it had taken him a while to actually open up to them, so to speak.

Still, if it could help Satine...he supposed he could do it.

Instead of coming into contact with Boss Nass like he expected, however, Jar-Jar found, to his surprise, Captain Tarpals -- a Gungan he had been fairly close with prior to his exile from Otoh Gunga -- seeming fairly more irritated than usual.

"Heyyo...Captain Tarpals." Even now, something in Jar-Jar, a well-honed preservation instinct, so to speak, was telling him to clear out, to flee (in a way) but even so, Jar-Jar tried to steel himself. "May mesa speak to Boss Nass?"

"Jar-Jar -- "

"Mesa deliver a message from Duchess Satine Kryze. Itsa...important."

Beat.

"Patch in Boss Nass."

And even as the impressive, looming face of Boss Nass filled the holoprojector, Jar-Jar Binks still wondered, in a way, if he was doing the right thing.


	4. Chapter Three: Revisions and Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anakin is rejected for Jedi training, and Padme and Maul prepare to attack Mandalore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: I think I got Qui-Gon and Anakin down okay for the most part, as well as Padme and Maul. Also, there are some Les Miserables references in this chapter. Let's say that I was at the peak of my Les Mis obsession when I wrote this. XD 
> 
> And yes, most original title ever, y/y? :P

“The boy’s skill in the Force, impressive it is, Master Qui-Gon...very impressive indeed.”

 

Even now, standing in the Council Chamber, protectively standing beside Anakin, Qui-Gon could already feel the first trickles of apprehension start to flow up his spine. Master Yoda was obviously impressed with the boy’s progress, that much was clear, and yet something about his words -- there seemed to be a quaver of a warning in the Force, as if the Council was going to make a considerable mistake.

 

But what mistake could they make in having him train Anakin? Was the boy not the Chosen One, destined to vanquish the Sith and bring balance to the Force? Was that not what the Council wanted?

 

“Very well,” Qui-Gon said, keeping his voice level -- he had become quite good at it over the years. “Shall he be trained?”

 

“No,” Yoda said, “Trained the boy will not be.”

 

“What?”

 

Though his voice was still level, Qui-Gon felt, almost, as if he had been slapped. No, worse than that -- pushed down, like he was still a Jedi Padawan. He had never been quite popular with the Council due to his unorthodox methods -- if anything, it was a miracle that the Council still _tolerated_ him there, considering how they felt about seeming dissenters, or those who seemed to not follow the Code.

 

Still, for Qui-Gon Jinn, there was plenty of room to be made to break the Code, at least at times. If anything, his philosophy was that to be a good Jedi was to do the right thing, and to let the rules, let _duty_ take care of itself.

 

Obi-Wan didn’t seem to have grasped that concept. He was a good Padawan, Obi-Wan, but he seemed so terrified of falling to the Dark Side, of failure, that sometimes, he seemed to follow the Code to the letter. Even now, what Obi-Wan had said prior to the meeting with the Council had stung him -- even if Obi-Wan had no doubt only meant it as helpful advice, and not as a condemnation.

 

_Master, if you would just follow the Code, you would be on the Council._

Obi-Wan was a good man, that could not be denied. But the boy had much to learn.

 

"He is too old," Mace Windu said. "Too filled with fear to complete his training."

 

Yoda leaned back, almost as if deep in thought, listening to the Force, before speaking again. "Clouded this boy's future is."

 

"Nevertheless," Qui-Gon said, "Should he be the Chosen One...if he is not to be trained by anyone else on the Council..."

 

Silence. The Council seemed to be holding their breaths, as if to see what Qui-Gon would say next.

 

"I will train him instead."

 

More silence. If anything, the Jedi Council seemed – in the calmest way possible, Qui-Gon thought wryly – flabbergasted by the idea that he would take two apprentices at once. Even now, Qui-Gon could not help but look sideways at Obi-Wan – who seemed equally anxious and apprehensive – and wonder if he was doing the right thing, all but pushing Obi-Wan off to the side in such a fashion. He and Obi-Wan had been partners, Master and Padawan, for as long as he could remember, since Obi-Wan was a boy, since Obi-Wan had been nearly shipped off to the Agricultural Corps for, as the Council put it, “difficulties controlling his anger”. He could not say it was the first “rescue”, of sorts, that he made (he had been used to such things since he was a boy), but it was the beginning, at least, of doing things that defied the Council – much to Obi-Wan’s chagrin.

 

_Master, if you just followed the Code, you’d be on the Council…_

He couldn’t help but feel a stab of bitterness at Obi-Wan at first, but then again, how could he be bitter? Obi-Wan was only a boy, after all – young, naïve, afraid – how could he possibly get angry at him when the boy didn’t quite _know_ better?

 

The boy had known nothing but the constraints of the Jedi Code since the time he was a babe in the crèche, since the time he was a youngling under Master Yoda’s tenure, and even now, as Qui-Gon’s young, brash, perfectionist Padawan. How could he possibly get angry at him?

 

Nonetheless, Obi-Wan had done much to prove his worth over the years. It was time for him to move on.

 

“An apprentice you have already, Master Qui-Gon,” Yoda said, his ears flattening forward in disapproval. “Impossible it is to take on a second.”

 

“That is not the intent. If anything…I do believe that Obi-Wan is ready to face the trials.”

 

The Council went utterly silent again. Obi-Wan looked as if Qui-Gon had gone mad – at the very least, he looked it briefly; as quickly as that flash of emotion came, he managed to collect himself as he said, “Master Qui-Gon is right. I am ready for the trials.”

 

Silence.

 

“There is still the matter of the boy’s age,” Master Windu said. “He will go with you to Mandalore – but he will not be trained.”

“I understand.”

 

Even now, leaving the chamber, Qui-Gon could not help but feel the crushing disappointment radiating from the child by his side. But it was more than that. It was also crushing vulnerability – a lost slave boy, separated from his mother, still holding out hope that his dreams would come true.

 

 _They will, Anakin._ Qui-Gon’s hand gently brushed the boy’s shoulder in a reassuring touch. _They will._

Anakin didn’t quite smile, but a hint of it came through the tears that threatened to fall – and even that was like morning breaking across Coruscant itself.

 

***

 

It was on Mandalore that Padme felt it – the disturbance in the Force. At first, it was quiet, but like a sound building, it grew more noticeable – too strong to ignore. And more than that, it was like a star coming into existence. A candle flickering into being.

 

“You felt it?” Maul’s voice was quiet and level as usual – even now, it unsettled Padme, how Maul could always be so calm. Even now, she could not help but shiver to think of what Maul must have gone through in order to become the implacable killing machine he was. But then again, it was the way of the Sith. Sacrifices had to be made. There was no room for attachment.

 

And even now, this tentative alliance would have to eventually end in death, for either her or Maul. Padme made a note to be prepared for that occasion. So even now, around Maul, she kept her guard – her hand on her training saber, looking at Maul with carefully disguised wariness.

 

“I did.” Even now, Padme could not help but feel her guard slip, if only a little. “It’s a sign, isn’t it? Of someone coming to our side.”

 

“It could be,” Maul said, “But I do advise you to be wary still. Even with the supposed ‘Chosen One’ on our side, I doubt it will be enough. The Jedi are dangerous foes, and while it may be easy to sit there and swat them like insects – ’’

 

“I didn’t _say_ that.”

 

“My mistake, then,” Maul said. “But as I was saying, those like Master Yoda will be harder to…catch, so to speak.”

 

“I can imagine.” Master Yoda was already renowned as one of the best duelists in the Order; the fact that he was knee-high to, say, a krayt dragon was only used to his advantage, as he could become a whirlwind of destruction whenever he desired.

 

“And even without Master Yoda,” Maul said, “We may have to still be wary. Arrogance has no place in the Sith ranks; if anything, it is the quickest way a Sith may be brought down.”

 

“That’s definitely true.” If there was anything she learned under Lord Sidious’ tenure, it was never to let her guard down. It was to never get too comfortable in victory – even if they won at Mandalore, there was much more trouble to come.

 

And for that trouble, they had to be prepared.


	5. Chapter Four: Duels and Premonitions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon, Maul and Padme meet for the first time, and there's a hint about Padme's possible future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Well, the battle at Mandalore is here. I hope it meets your expectations. :)

“It’s not disrespect, Master; it’s the truth.” But even now, arguing with Qui-Gon about that, somehow, Obi-Wan could not find the strength to believe it.

He didn’t want to think that the Council was right. That this sweet, innocent child would actually bring downfall upon them all. And if Qui-Gon was right, if indeed, this child could bring balance to the Force...

And then he remembered his nightmares. The nightmares that had plagued him prior to the mission to Mandalore to rescue Duchess Satine.

A young man, face framed in shadow, slicing through the Temple like a ghost, like a dream, cutting down youngling after youngling, Master after Master, Padawan after Padawan, Knight after Knight. No Jedi was spared -- and those he did not kill were shot down by men in white uniforms.

He had tried to explain his dream to Qui-Gon, but the Master had brushed it off as being only a bad dream, and that he would be all right. “Remember what Master Yoda taught you as a young child.”

“ ‘Always in motion is the future,’” Obi-Wan repeated, almost mechanically, trying to convince himself that it would be all right. That this future, this bleak future that he hd seen in his nightmare, would not come true. “But what if this future comes to be?”

“Then we will fight it with every last drop of strength we have left.”

“What if that’s not enough?”

“You are too low on hope,” Qui-Gon said, “It will be enough. The dark is not invincible -- one lone candle is enough to hold it back.”

And for a moment, those words had calmed him, soothed him.

And yet, somehow, something deep in Obi-Wan could not help but disbelieve it.

“From your point of view, perhaps.” Though Qui-Gon was visibly trying to stay calm, Obi-Wan could feel a layer of irritation in his voice.

“The Council will decide the boy’s fate, not you. Now get on board.”

As Qui-Gon boarded the ship, Obi-Wan could not help but feel rage begin to simmer up in him. Rage mingled with humiliation. How can he think so little of me, when I try so hard to please him? And yet even now, he could not help but wonder if Qui-Gon was right. If, indeed, he was being cruel to the boy, and unjustly so.

Obi-Wan sighed and boarded the ship after Qui-Gon. I must be out of my mind...

He sat far away from Qui-Gon though -- it felt too risky at the moment. Perhaps they could talk when both of them had calmed.

Then he felt Satine sit next to him. “Padawan Kenobi,” she said, “Are you all right?”

“I’m...all right.” Obi-Wan took a deep breath. “Master Qui-Gon has deemed me ready to face the trials.”

“But that’s wonderful!”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, “But I...am afraid.” Did Qui-Gon really think he was fit for the trials? After all, he was not renowned for controlling his temper -- much -- as a Padawan. If not for Qui-Gon’s intervention, he would have been shipped off to AgriCorps instead.

Even thinking about it now, he could not help but wonder if he was being ungrateful to Qui-Gon. After all, the Jedi Master was just doing what he could...

But even now, looking at the boy now eating up Qui-Gon’s time, asking questions about midichlorians and so many others...

Obi-Wan could not help but hate the boy. And even that idea frightened him -- blaming and hating a small child for something that was hardly his fault. What a miserable human being I must be...

“You don’t feel ready?”

“I do,” Obi-Wan said, “But...I don’t quite want to become a Knight too quickly.”

“I see.”

“That and Qui-Gon. I...I know he has good intentions, but...” He trailed off; how was he going to explain his sheer anger and irrational hatred of Anakin for something that was barely his fault?

Satine smiled, gently stroked his cheek. “Qui-Gon merely does what he believes is right. In the meantime, you must do what you consider right.”

“Mandalore,” Obi-Wan said. He faltered. “Satine...what happened to your planet...it was worse than unfair. They shouldn’t have done it -- you and the other Mandalorians deserved much better.”

“Obi-Wan,” Satine said, “There is no need. Everything one can consider better is right here. Right now.”

And even those words, that smile -- somehow, Obi-Wan felt something in him he didn’t know was tense relax when she said those words.

“Thank you, Satine,” he said. “Thank you.”

***

It was later, much later, one reconciliation later and one discussion of strategy later, that the battle to reclaim Mandalore began. Satine was not one for fighting, Obi-Wan observed, but even now, if she was sufficiently provoked, she would do so. He, of course, was more than willing to fight -- if only to do his duty. Jedi were keepers of the peace by nature, not soldiers, but even so, they were more than willing to pick up arms if necessary.

It was later, in the throne room, that Obi-Wan saw them. Two figures, cloaked in black, who drew back their hoods. One was the figure that Qui-Gon Jinn had fought on Naboo -- a Zabrak with dark tattoos that stood out against scarlet skin, contrasting with yellow eyes that almost called to mind a krayt dragon’s. The other was a girl, a beautiful young woman actually, small and slender, with rich brown hair and the familiar amber eyes of the Sith. Even now, the soldiers that accompanied Satine and the others murmured things to them such as “We’ll take the long way”, as if they knew that they couldn’t stand a chance against the two of them.

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon drew their lightsabers abruptly, before charging on the two figures. They dueled, and even as they did so, Obi-Wan could not help but notice that the girl he dueled was...quite good, really. Very skilled. Every movement he made, she seemed to match almost flawlessly. The four of them continued to duel, matching one another movement for movement, up until --

Even now as the Zabrak dashed through the Force Field, Obi-Wan almost wanted to follow, except for the fact the girl was simply refusing to give up. He could sense Qui-Gon’s determination even as he continued to fight the Zabrak, and over their bond, over the Master-apprentice bond, Obi-Wan found the will to fight on.

And then he felt it. A sharp, agonizing pain. A pain that seemed to resonate through him, a pain that escaped him in a scream. Qui-Gon had fallen. Enraged, he dashed through the Force field, stabbing it, rushing for the figure, intent on dueling him to a stand-still --

It was only later, lying on the floor with the figure standing over him that Obi-Wan realized that giving into his anger was a mistake. If anything, he doubted he could have felt more humiliated.

And yet...

He swung. Whether it be by luck or otherwise, the lightsaber in the Zabrak’s hand -- a double-bladed one as well -- was sliced in half. But then again, Obi-Wan knew that there was no such thing as luck. There was only the Force.

The Zabrak, still holding onto one end of the handle, continued to duel Obi-Wan. Red against blue, red against blue, one of many variations on the time-honored tradition of Sith vs. Jedi.

Until...

Obi-Wan’s lightsaber went straight through the Zabrak’s heart.

Even now, turning around long after the Zabrak had fallen, he turned to look at the girl, who stood there, calmly, almost challenging him to strike her down next.

“I don’t want to fight you,” he said, “But I will if there’s no other choice. Surrender and you shall be spared.”

“I’m afraid I can’t.” The girl’s voice was almost musical-sounding -- pleasant to the ear. “I am sorry.”

“Very well then.”

The fight resumed. Blue vs. red, red vs. blue. And yet...

In the vision, Obi-Wan could see a man in a mask, and the girl fighting alongside a man with shaggy dark blond hair. Fighting an Empire that seemed to extend across galaxies...

The vision distracted him enough for the girl to knock him towards the ground. Beaten, sweaty, almost embarrassed at his failure, Obi-Wan could only look up at the girl and say, “If there’s any solace, there is a life outside the Sith for you.”

“What?”

“I’ve merely seen.” Obi-Wan smiled, wincing in pain even as he did. “You’ve fought wonderfully.”

“As...as have you.” The girl seemed, quite honestly, surprised he said it. "I never expected mercy from a Jedi."

"It's what we do. It's who we are."

The girl didn't seem to believe him. 

It was then that Satine and the others entered. Upon seeing him sprawled in pain on the floor, Satine seemed to go pale. “Are you all right?”

“Perfectly all right.” Obi-Wan staggered to his feet. Then he grew more solemn. “I need to take Master Qui-Gon back. He will need to be given a proper funeral.” A pause. “He died bravely.”

For a moment, he could have sworn he saw a flicker in the girl’s eyes -- a flicker of something he couldn’t identify. Was it pity? How odd, to have pity from a Sith -- or at least a Dark Jedi.

“Of course. And in the meanwhile, we will need to take this girl back to Coruscant for trial.”

If anything, the girl seemed to face the possibility of her sentence with dignity. Even now, Obi-Wan could not help but wonder about her -- who her name was, where she came from, and, considering what he had just seen, if she was truly evil at heart.


	6. Chapter Five: The Beginning of The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Qui-Gon's funeral is had, and though the Battle of Naboo is won for now, the worst is still yet to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Not sure if I got Anakin's voice down very well, but I still think I did okay.

It was long after the battle was over that Obi-Wan returned to Mandalore’s surface, still bearing the burden of Qui-Gon’s body -- which the Jedi agreed to give a proper funeral soon. Even now, Obi-Wan could not help but feel slightly guilty for being unable to truly cope with his grief -- if anything, amongst Jedi, nothing was truly permanent, and attachment was a selfish thing. Grief was an attachment. Despair was an attachment. And even now, Obi-Wan was, truthfully, finding it hard to cope with both of them.

It was there that he saw Anakin, clearly exhausted but triumphant, exiting from a Naboo fighter with Artoo-Detoo in tow, and in spite of himself, Obi-Wan felt relief, sheer relief, descend on him. Anakin had not suffered the same fate as Qui-Gon. He was all right. 

“Anakin!” Even now, Obi-Wan never imagined that he would be that relieved to realize that Anakin had managed to survive the space battle above Mandalore -- granted, he wouldn’t have wanted to see the boy dead, but even so...he hadn’t expected it to be this joyous. Almost as if a brother or friend had returned to him safely -- he barely knew Anakin, and even now, looking into that gentle, guileless face, he couldn’t imagine how he could even think differently.

“Artoo was absolutely amazing,” Anakin said -- even now, the boy’s excitement was almost infectious. “I really doubt I would have been able to do it without him. Blow up the ship, that is.”

“You blew it up all by yourself?”

“Well,” Anakin said, seeming to blush a bit, “Not entirely by myself...”

Artoo let out a few beeps and whistles, which sounded, to Obi-Wan at least, quite irritated.

Anakin shot him a playful glare. “Oh, come on, Artoo,” he said, “I’m not that incompetent with all those buttons...”

Obi-Wan stifled a laugh -- he almost didn’t want to laugh, but in spite of himself, he found himself doing so. Anakin grinned, almost as if realizing the humor himself. Then he grew more serious.

“I just hope that Master Qui-Gon won’t be mad at me,” he said. Even now, watching the boy scuff a small rock with his foot, Obi-Wan felt a pang of guilt. How was he going to explain what had happened to Qui-Gon?

Satine shot him a look that said, quite clearly, Tell him. He deserves to know the truth.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin looked concerned. “Are you all right?”

Obi-Wan swallowed; somehow, there was no avoiding it now.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. “Qui-Gon...he’s one with the Force now.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s dead,” Obi-Wan said. “He fell in battle.”

And even now, seeing the look on Anakin’s face, that crushing look of grief and shock, Obi-Wan almost wished he hadn’t said it.

“I’m so sorry,” Obi-Wan said. “I...I should have helped him. Should have saved him -- ’’

“Don’t say things like that,” Anakin said. “It’s not your fault.”

Ah, Anakin, Obi-Wan thought. If only you knew...

***

It was at the funeral that Anakin finally found the words to speak. He was no stranger to death -- he had been naive about it when he had been slightly younger, as most children were. And yet at the same time, he was still naive. He only wished he could bring Qui-Gon back, to stop Obi-Wan’s pain...

Then again, he thought, what were the odds that he could?

“What is going to happen to me now?” he asked Obi-Wan, almost in spite of himself.

“I don’t know, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. “The Council, however, has granted me permission to train you. You will be a Jedi -- I promise.”

They turned back to the flames, listening to the faint conversation between Master Yoda and Master Windu, listening to “always two there are, no more, no less. A master and an apprentice.”

“But which one was destroyed? The Master, or the apprentice?”

Anakin didn’t know what it meant. But in a way, he was glad that he didn’t.

***

In the streets of Mandalore, Gungans and humans and Mandalorians mingled in the streets in a victory march, rejoicing at taking back Mandalore from the oppressive hands of the Trade Federation. Mandalore would be prosperous again -- new life would grow there, and it would return to its former glory -- almost as if the Trade Federation never tainted it.

Satine only hoped they would not forget. On the other hand, she would have been happy to never take up arms again.

Next to Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker stood, now wearing a Padawan braid. R2-D2 also stood beside him, whirring and beeping.

Obi-Wan turned to look at Satine, smiled -- it was not often that Obi-Wan smiled, but when he did, it was a sight to behold. It was a smile that could light the stars themselves.

And in spite of herself, Satine found herself smiling back, before turning to celebrate with Boss Nass and Jar-Jar Binks -- as the latter received medals for his bravery in the Battle of Naboo.

The war was far from over -- but in the end, the galaxy would be at peace.

And as long as they were together, no power in the galaxy itself could stop them.


	7. Chapter Six: Reevaluation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the AOTC part of the story gets started, Sidious is regrouping after Maul's death at Mandalore, and Padme goes to meet with Dooku to recruit him to the grand cause of taking over the galaxy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Hope at the very least I've got Sidious down (or at least, his agenda). I'll admit, getting Sidious down is pretty difficult. It's sort of the matter of knowing what his plans are, how he executes them, things like that. I know he does take home the gold medal in terms of Magnificent Bastardry, though. :3

To say that Darth Sidious was most displeased would have been much like saying that the Tatooine desert was hot -- it was both obvious and an understatement. Even now, facing Sidious, Padme was only grateful that she had had experience, of sorts, dealing with Sidious -- because if anything else, meeting up with her master after managing to escape a highly guarded Coruscanti security cell, this was going to be far from easy.

“So you are saying that after all of this planning, all of this perseverance, your actions got Maul killed?”

“I didn’t get Maul killed,” Padme said. “It was an unfortunate accident. It seems we underestimated what Padawan Kenobi was capable of. I assume it was fortunate that he managed to regain his legendary self-control.”

“Indeed.” Sidious seemed calmer now -- if anything, he seemed more nonplussed. “Fortunately, not all is lost. I have a new task for you, my apprentice.”

“Tell me, Master.”

“Go seek out the Jedi Master Count Dooku.”

“What could a Jedi Master do for us?”

“Former,” Sidious said. “From what I can gather, he has had...difficulties with the Jedi Council. He left recently if only because of corruption in the Republic.”

“A smart move, I can imagine.”

A smile seemed to tug at Sidious’ lips. “Indeed. Be patient, my apprentice -- in time, the Republic will become that which it was meant to be. You will see.”

***  
It was after going through every possible terminal on Coruscant (disguised, of course -- if her cover was blown, how could she possibly complete the mission?) that she, finally, managed to find a lead for Dooku. Apparently, long after a disastrous battle on Galidraan (no doubt spurred on by those still infuriated by Satine’s actions during the occupation of Mandalore -- and to be fair, what could she do? The woman was hopelessly blinded by her own principles to the point of allowing the suffering of her people to continue. Even now, Padme could hardly comprehend who would do such a thing), Dooku had begun to have some doubts about the Order, and, finally, long after the Battle of Mandalore, he had officially left, retiring to Serenno, which he was now a ruler of.

Recruiting Dooku had two purposes, really -- if anything, several. For one thing, it would secure Serenno as a possible alliance for Sidious should their Empire -- perhaps the only true chance for peace that the Jedi were incompetent at establishing -- come into being. And for another, it would perhaps wake up the Jedi to the fact that they had to adapt, to change, to merge with the Sith (their former brethren, if the old tales were anything to go by), and thus, both Jedi and Sith could co-exist, ruling the galaxy in fairness and peace.

Perhaps it was nothing more than a ridiculous dream -- Padme had been told by others that she had always been too idealistic for her own good. Even from a young age, she was already thinking of ways to change the galaxy, to make things the way they should be. Optimistic to a fault, some said.

And yet...

Perhaps, after they had won this war, Sidious would be willing to listen to her point of view. Or perhaps not -- Sidious was not fond of the Jedi to put it mildly.

Still, Padme mused, smiling a bit under the hood of her cloak, it wouldn’t hurt to try.


	8. Chapter Seven: Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Padme meets with Dooku, and we get a glimpse into Anakin and Obi-Wan's relationship as they get back from Ansion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Sorry about the Padme section being so short.

Even speaking with Dooku, Padme could not help but be surprised at just how gentlemanly he was. How amiable. She supposed that she shouldn’t be surprised, considering how he was brought up, but even so...

“So you are saying,” Dooku said, “That this Master of yours may be able to bring peace and order to the galaxy where the Order failed?”

“For his part, yes.”

“Very well then.” Dooku stood in one fluid motion. “Take me to him.”

“I will.”

***

It was another one of those dreams that Anakin kept having.

The beginning of the dream was innocuous enough -- if anything, he was back on Mandalore (somehow, despite everything that had happened there, Mandalore still gave him warm memories when he thought about it. Probably thinking about Jar-Jar helped. And Satine. And Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon -- unfortunately, Obi-Wan didn’t seem to have gotten over Qui-Gon’s death. Something in him -- something had broken in him that day. Anakin could only wonder, with the way Obi-Wan looked at him at times, if he wasn’t truly seeing Anakin -- only remembering Qui-Gon. And even that thought stung) and, somehow, his mother was with him. And she was smiling -- warm and gentle and kind and happy, just so happy, that he had managed to succeed.

“You’ve done it, Annie. You’ve done it. You have brought hope to those who have none.”

And even now, something in him loosened.

And with her was Qui-Gon -- the way the two of them stood together, almost like they belonged by one another’s side. The way Qui-Gon looked at her -- something about that look, Anakin could not help but wonder --

And then the dream shifted.

Shmi, shattering into bloody glass along with Qui-Gon, without any time to say goodbye. Himself, dueling a mysterious man with a blue lightsaber -- brother against brother.

And the girl from Mandalore -- the girl that Obi-Wan had told him about. Small and slender and beautiful, with amber eyes, amber with the Dark Side, and rich brown hair. She seemed almost like an angel -- an avenging angel, sent from the Corellian hells to torment the living.

Finally, Anakin managed to wake in a cold sweat, gasping for breath. He looked around, observed his quarters, and realized, with relief, that he was safe and sound. That everything was all right.

And even that realization made him break into tears, tears of mingled sorrow and gratitude. Gratitude that it wasn’t real, that it was only a bad dream – and if it was a premonition of the future, he would do whatever was in his power to prevent it.

He didn’t want another tragedy for him, or anyone else, after Qui-Gon’s death. Everything had to pass into the Force eventually, he knew that, but seeing Obi-Wan’s pain – sometimes, Anakin mused, Obi-Wan didn’t seem to see him whenever he looked at him. He seemed, mostly, to be remembering Qui-Gon.

And that hurt the worst of all.

In some of his more irrational moments, he could not help but wonder if Obi-Wan was deliberately trying to antagonize him – if Obi-Wan hated him for seemingly “stealing” Qui-Gon’s attention from him. Which wasn’t fair – if anything, Obi-Wan seemed to like him. After all, he tended to defend him in Council meetings even during the times when he didn’t really need defending. And he was a good Master, a wonderful Master, as powerful as Mace Windu and as wise as Master Yoda. If one was to ask Anakin about how he felt about being Obi-Wan’s apprentice, he would have, truthfully, answered, that he was grateful to be in such a position.

Obi-Wan was a good man and a great Jedi – the problem was that he very rarely seemed to recognize it. Sometimes it was quite an amusing and even quite touching trait, how Obi-Wan tended to downplay his successes, saying, mostly, that if not for Anakin he wouldn’t have gotten this far, but at the same time, it was frustrating on multiple levels. For one thing, if anything, the Order seemed to have taught Obi-Wan well in terms of sending mixed signals, for the older man seemed to fluctuate between praising him and condemning him badly enough for him to be embarrassed to be seen by other people.

Granted, it wasn’t Obi-Wan’s fault – he no doubt was trying to do his job – but even so, he could not help but hate Obi-Wan at times for this. The older man had a talent for alarming and confusing him.

And the fact that he didn’t recognize his own potential, how he seemed to unintentionally cripple himself – he could still remember what he had said on Ansion, when one of the snobbier noblemen had ridiculed Obi-Wan, when he had said that Obi-Wan would never be Qui-Gon Jinn, that he was a pale imitation of him.

“Don’t listen to him, Master. Personally…I think you’re one of the best Jedi out there.”

Obi-Wan had been stunned then, stammering a quick thank you to Anakin, telling him to get some rest. Even now, it was quite amusing and touching to see Obi-Wan caught off guard in such a fashion.

It was true that Obi-Wan was no perfect mentor, but there was something in him, Anakin mused, that he hadn’t seen before – not as a child, at least.

Obi-Wan seemed to fluctuate between being kind and being cold, but at his heart, he was a good man – and Anakin was thankful to be his Padawan.

“Anakin! Anakin, get up here!”

His master’s voice snapped Anakin out of his thoughts, and he quickly pulled on his Jedi robes over his pajamas. Anakin sighed.

Hopefully it’s not about the coordinates…

But then again, he had a feeling that Obi-Wan would be far from happy about his little “shortcut” to Coruscant anyway.

Obi-Wan was odd like that.


	9. Chapter Eight: Bittersweet Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Obi-Wan and Anakin meet up with Satine again, and we get more of a glimpse into Anakin's thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Hope I got Satine and, well, everyone okay for this chapter.

“You reset the coordinates!” Even now, Obi-Wan sounded more on edge than usual – fortunately, considering Obi-Wan, said agitation came out as slight terseness, a tightness in his voice that still managed to communicate, to Anakin at least, that deciding to do something like this was, to put it mildly, quite a bad plan. “What were you thinking?”

 

Even standing there, Anakin felt bashful. Despite the fact that he was (technically) an adult now, Obi-Wan still had a bizarre talent for making him feel like he was nine years old again.

 

“Sorry, Master,” Anakin said, “I just thought we’d get back to Coruscant…quicker that way.”

 

“Ah. I see.” Even now, though, Obi-Wan didn’t seem to be convinced – indeed, he had quirked one of his eyebrows in one of his patented what-the-stang-were-you-thinking expressions. “Tell me, Anakin: do you make a _point_ in complicating everything by mistake?”

 

“Well,” Anakin said, “At least we’d get back to Coruscant quicker – ’’

 

It was only then that the communications console rang. Anakin checked it. “It seems we’ve got a message from Duchess Satine,” he said. “You should check it out.”

 

“Patch it in.” Obi-Wan still sounded terse, though.

 

As Anakin did so, and Satine’s hologram came into view, Anakin could not help but notice that, somehow, Satine was even more beautiful than he remembered. He still had warm memories of her, memories that managed to keep him warm when he was away at the Jedi Temple

 

_which wasn’t an easy existence. other than the temple droids (and maybe Obi-Wan, and a few Jedi Padawans) he couldn’t say he had many friends to go to in order to assuage the loneliness_

but even so…

 

He hadn’t expected her to remain this lovely. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, tried to make himself appear as composed as possible – not an easy task.

 

“Duchess Satine,” Obi-Wan said – if anything, he seemed to be mastering this whole composure business better than Anakin – Anakin almost couldn’t help but envy him for it. “It’s wonderful to see you again, my lady.”

“And you as well, Obi-Wan.” Satine then turned to look at Anakin. “Annie? You’ve grown since you were away.”

 

“I…thank you. So…so have you. Grown more…beautiful I mean.” He could feel Obi-Wan’s reproving glance, and he tried to amend himself – to no success. “Well…for a…Duchess that is.”

 

Fortunately, Satine laughed – it was, indeed, a good thing that Satine was, fundamentally, quite a kind soul underneath what most dubbed the “Ice Queen” persona. Anakin had gotten into more than a few arguments with those who disagreed with Satine’s more pacifist tactics – while he wouldn’t call himself a pacifist himself

 

_if anything, he preferred the more aggressive of negotiations – when in doubt, pull out the lightsaber. much to Obi-Wan’s disapproval, of course, but then again, when had Obi-Wan approved of anything he did – and Anakin found himself cutting that thought off at the pass. He didn’t want to think that about Obi-Wan, even if it was true._

there was something about those who mocked Satine’s more pacifistic ways that, somehow, angered him.

 

“And you have still retained your candor,” she said, a faint smile upon her face. She then grew more somber. “I am glad that both you and Master Kenobi have returned. There was an assassination attempt today.”

 

“What? That’s awful!” But deep down, Anakin thought, it probably wasn’t a surprise – awful, yes, but considering some of the unrest in certain places regarding Satine’s decisions during the Trade Federation’s occupation of Mandalore, perhaps he should have seen this coming.

 

_If we had returned sooner…_

It was fortunate that Satine was unharmed. More than fortunate, really.

 

“I know,” Satine said. “You and Master Kenobi…meet me in Five Hundred Republica. Then we shall discuss the matter further.”

 

“Of course, my lady. Skywalker out.”

 

Once the communication ended, Obi-Wan turned to look at him. “Do you make a point out of saying the first thing that comes to mind?”

 

“I’m sorry,” Anakin said. “I just…it was idiotic of me, Master. I’m sorry.”

 

“Very well. Don’t do that again. And for that matter…next time you try to arrange a ‘shortcut’ back to Coruscant…talk to me first.”

 

“Yes, Master.”

 

They remained in silence for the remaining trip to Five Hundred Republica. Anakin’s cheeks burned in embarrassment and, for a moment, he could not help but dislike Obi-Wan. _Jealous hypocritical son of a murglak –_

But then again, it wasn’t fair. After all, Obi-Wan _was_ doing the best he could. He was no doubt still shaken by Qui-Gon’s death, and condemning him for that was far from fair.

 

Still, Anakin could not help but wish Obi-Wan could only realize how hard he was trying.

 

Perhaps he never would.


	10. Chapter Nine: Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anakin and Obi-Wan meet up with Jar-Jar again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Sorry for the possible lateness of this chapter; I've been busy.

“Obi! Obi! Obi!”

 

Even now, grinning uncomfortably, yet still trying to keep some degree of a friendly air, Obi-Wan could not help, oddly enough, to be grateful to see Jar-Jar again. He hadn’t expected to become friends with the Gungan after their unexpected crash-landing on Mandalore, but apparently, somehow, he had. Jar-Jar was bumbling, yes, inexperienced, yes, and he could be on the annoying side at times – that could not be denied – but the Gungan at least had a good heart. Something that was quite hard to find these days.

And at the very least, seeing someone he knew – sort of – would be enough to take his mind off the sudden worry he had about Duchess Satine Kryze.

 _Satine_ … The woman was brave – unbelievably brave. And yet at the same time, she seemed so vulnerable. He had seen glimpses of it after Mandalore, after Qui-Gon had died – and even now, he had to cut that thought off at the pass. Now was the time to focus on the present.

He was usually quite skilled at the art of letting go – his tutelage under Master Yoda had been proof enough of that. “ _Rejoice for those who transform into the Force. Mourn them not. Miss them not. The shadow of greed, attachment is.”_

And yet somehow, with his newly formed attachment to his Padawan, Obi-Wan could not help but wonder – was he being unnecessarily greedy?

And Satine…

He had tried to think of his relationship with her as strictly platonic. Comrades in arms, if you would. And her friend. Compassion, after all, was not forbidden by the Jedi Code – if anything, it was essential to a Jedi’s life. So in a way, from a certain point of view, one could say they were encouraged to love.

And yet even so, he could not help but worry that it was becoming more than that. Something dangerous.

“It’s good to see you, Jar-Jar,” Obi-Wan said, slightly forcing a smile. “You…you’ve definitely changed a lot.” If anything, Jar-Jar’s Senate robes – which should have looked unnecessarily bright and gaudy but somehow, gave the Gungan an odd air of dignity – suited him.

Jar-Jar merely grinned, before turning towards Anakin. “And this must be yousa apprentice.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, smiling. “Anakin?”

Anakin stepped forward, nodded a greeting to Jar-Jar – if anything, he seemed more than slightly awkward at seeing those he hadn’t seen in years or so.

Jar-Jar’s eyes went wide. “Annie? No. Little bitty Annie?”

A pause.

“Yousa Annie!” Jar-Jar bounded over towards Anakin, wrapping him in a hug to rival a Wookiee’s. Anakin, eventually, relaxed into it – if anything, even as Jar-Jar pulled away, still bouncing around him like an energetic pitten, making little _yi-yi-yi_ noises, he noticed, somehow, Anakin was more relaxed than Obi-Wan had seen him in quite a while.

“You’re a Senator now, Jar-Jar?” Anakin said. “That’s wonderful!”

“And look at yousa! Yousa sprouted!”

Obi-Wan gently cleared his throat. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Jar-Jar,” he said, “But…is there any chance to speak to Satine?”

Jar-Jar went somber – not at the rejection, Obi-Wan sensed. If anything, a sense of worry seemed to come over the Gungan’s face. “Shesa…shesa not doing so well. There was…”

“A firefight?”

“Close.”

“Did anything happen?”

“People – theysa were hurt.”

“We’ll discuss it more with Satine, I hope,” Obi-Wan said. “Can you take us to her?”

Jar-Jar’s eyes seemed to brighten again – it seemed the thought of being helpful was a good way to spring him into action. “Of course! Follow mesa.”


	11. Chapter Ten: Protecting the Duchess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Obi-Wan and Anakin meet with Satine and co. to discuss Satine's safety, and we get a glimpse into Obi-Wan's thoughts some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Even discussing the matter of Satine’s safety was harder than one could have imagined. If anything, Anakin was mostly trying to go by emotion – which was doomed to failure whether or not you were a Jedi – while Obi-Wan, still trying his damndest to please Qui-Gon

_which he acknowledged was more than slightly fueled by emotion. That was not a comforting thought. Of all the things Obi-Wan Kenobi didn’t want to be called, “hypocrite” would be…well, one of the worst_

was trying to use something that must have been completely and utterly elusive to his temperamental, disgruntled, overeager Padawan – _logic_.

“I do appreciate your concern for Duchess Satine’s safety, Anakin,” he said, gently, “And finding the attempted assassin. But protection is our first priority.”

“I know _that_ , Master,” Anakin said, “But how are we going to protect her when the attempted assassin is still loose?”

“Perhaps with the both of you guarding me,” Satine said, a flicker of faint amusement in her eyes, “The threat will be revealed in time.”

Silence.

“That…that’s a brilliant idea!” Anakin’s eyes lit up, and Obi-Wan chuckled to himself. For all of his faults, Anakin Skywalker was, fundamentally, a well-intentioned young man. If he only knew when to simply keep his mouth shut, though; the young man had the filtering ability of, Obi-Wan realized with a jolt, a small child.

Had Anakin ever had a real childhood while he had still been a slave on Tatooine? Anakin had told him about some of the happier parts – Jira, Kitster, and so on and so forth – but even so…Obi-Wan couldn’t imagine having any sort of a childhood underneath the lash of Gardulla the Hutt. Even Watto, though he was (from what he could gather from Anakin) kinder than Gardulla (although that didn’t say much), Anakin hadn’t had time to truly grow as a child. He hadn’t had many friends (outside Kitster and Wald), nor toys (although there was podracing, Obi-Wan supposed. Even the thought of sending out a small child into this deadly sport was enough to make him shiver – it was lucky the Force was usually with Anakin, or he would have been dead long ago. Far from a comforting thought)…nor a life outside of building podracers and racing on Watto’s whim. Though he said he did it for recreation as well, somehow, Obi-Wan didn’t believe it.

He had joked occasionally about Watto as well. _“He was a grumpy old bird,” the boy said, a slight smirk coming across that then-thirteen-year-old face. “I think he may have yelled at Wald to get off his lawn more than a few times.”_

_“He doesn’t have a lawn.” Indeed, after the Rakata had pillaged Tatooine, what was once a lush, green planet was nothing more than a desert wasteland._

_“Okay, to be more accurate, I think he yelled at Wald to get out of his_ shop _. And stop making up insulting poems about him.”_

_Obi-Wan snorted. “I can’t imagine Watto being happy with that.”_

_“Not really.” Anakin sighed, shook his head, smiling. “He was a good master, really,” he said. “Biggest grump in the Outer Rim, though.”_

_“Old men are like that,” Obi-Wan said._

_“Which explains Master Yoda quite a bit.”_

_“Anakin!” In spite of himself, Obi-Wan had to smother a laugh. Why did Anakin make him laugh so much?_

_“Well, he’s old. And grumpy.” Anakin shrugged. “It doesn’t negate the fact he’s the best Jedi of all of us.” A pause. “I just hope I don’t become as grumpy as him when I’m older.”_

_“I’ll make sure of it,” Obi-Wan said, smiling._

“What do you think, Master Kenobi?” Satine asked.

“It’s a sound plan,” Obi-Wan said. “For now.” Even now, though, he could not help but feel the plan would, ultimately, do more harm than good.

Still, they’d do what they could to protect Satine’s safety.

For the time being.


	12. Chapter Eleven: Assassination Attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which assassin Zam Wessell makes her first move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be.
> 
> Author's Notes: Think I did okay. Not certain if the conversation between Anakin and Obi-Wan about family was needed, but then again...

It was another one of those damnable nightmares again. Another one of those nightmares about his mother dying in agony. Screaming in pain. Begging for help.

 

Another one of those nightmares that caused Anakin to jolt awake in the darkness, gasping for breath, checking his surroundings urgently, and then letting out a sigh of relief that he was, at the very least, still alive.

 

He got up, walked towards the window, stretched out with his Force senses if only to make sure that Satine was safe and sound.

 

She was. And sleeping peacefully.

 

Thank the Force.

 

Anakin then stood, looking out at the Coruscant city skyline, trying to memorize every last detail if only to soothe his troubled mind. He couldn’t say whether or not it was working though. Every other image seemed to emerge of his mother shattering away into pieces of glass, glass that turned to dust in the Tatooine wind.

 

And he was alone, looking across the Dune Sea, wanting to run after her and put her back together, but somehow, frozen in his fear.

 

Shuddering even thinking about it, Anakin took a deep breath, let it out, trying to count to three in his mind. _Dreams pass in time,_ Obi-Wan had told him once, as a small child.

 

_Oh dear Force, let these ones pass…_

“Are you all right, Anakin?”

 

Anakin turned around then, turned to look at Obi-Wan, who seemed to have dark circles under his eyes. “You’ve been having nightmares too?”

 

“That’s not what we’re here to talk about,” Obi-Wan said, “Are you all right?”

 

Silence.

 

“I’m fine,” Anakin said. “Just…nightmares.”

 

“About what?”

 

A flush came over Anakin’s face; did Obi-Wan have to pry into his business constantly? Still, he bit his lip, trying vainly to control his temper – still, he tried to reassure himself that Obi-Wan was only trying to help…in his own bizarre Obi-Wan way.

 

“All right,” he said, “It was about…my mother.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Obi-Wan sounded so bemused, so detached, so…coolly interested that even now, Anakin could not help but feel infuriated. How could he simply act like that, after what Anakin had seen?

 

But did Obi-Wan know? Of course not.

 

And even if he had sensed it over the Master-Padawan bond, it was not like he could understand. It was one thing to see a woman in agony from the torture of Tusken Raiders. It was something completely different when that woman was your own mother – someone who was one of your only anchors in slavery.

 

“She’s in pain,” he said. “She’s in pain, and she’s dying, and she’s alone – ’’

 

Gently, Obi-Wan laid a hand along his arm. “I doubt that future will come to pass.”

 

“I don’t know.” Anakin sighed. “I didn’t leave her in very good circumstances…”

 

“She wouldn’t have wanted you to stay in that terrible place. From what you told me of her…”

 

“Did you know your own family?”

 

Obi-Wan seemed taken aback at Anakin’s question.

 

“I mean,” Anakin said, stammering, blushing, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked – ’’

 

“It’s perfectly all right, Anakin. I was merely…surprised.” Obi-Wan cleared his throat, seeming visibly trying to compose himself. “Jedi…Jedi are separated from their parents at an early age.”

 

“How early, exactly?”

 

“As early as infanthood.”

 

Anakin felt almost like an airlock had opened in his stomach. “But that’s…that’s barbaric!”

 

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean it that way – ’’

 

Obi-Wan snorted. “You’re too much like Qui-Gon for your own good. If anything, he had the same brutal honesty – he would tell me _exactly_ what he thought about the Jedi Code and the Order’s plans…amongst others. Such positions got him in trouble with the Council.”

 

“I…noticed.” Anakin cleared his throat. “So what do you remember about your family?”

 

“Mostly memories. I try not to dwell on them too much – at least not to the point of overattachment. It is not wrong to remember the past – simply focus on the present and let the rest take care of itself.”

 

Anakin smiled, if weakly. “Qui-Gon’s rubbed off on you, hasn’t he?”

 

Obi-Wan faltered, if only for a moment. “Yes,” he said, “For his part.”

 

The urgent toodles from R2 jolted them out of their conversation.

 

“Satine’s in trouble.” Even now, the Force was blaring a distinct warning to Anakin, screaming like a proximity alarm through a ship. “Let’s go!”

 

“Yes. Let’s. Just follow my lead,” Obi-Wan said, “And everything will turn out right.”

 

Anakin chuckled in spite of himself. “After the gundark incident – ’’

 

“Yes, yes, I know,” Obi-Wan said, stiffly, “Can you just follow me?”

 

And Anakin did – the two Jedi sprinting to Satine’s room, intent to thwart whatever new plans the assassin had this time.


	13. Chapter Twelve: Investigation.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anakin begins his investigations into the assassination attempt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Mostly hoping that this chapter doesn't come off as too anticlimactic, really.

It was long after the news of the assassin, long after he had bid both Obi-Wan and Satine farewell and good luck that Anakin Skywalker headed off to the Jedi Archives. He could not say that they were his favorite place to be – not because he disliked the information there, but because of the archivist, Jocasta Nu.

 

Jocasta Nu wasn’t a cruel woman, per se, but there was something about her – precise, almost ruthlessly precise – that more than slightly unsettled Anakin. The other Padawans had given him advice in the past on how to deal with her (“Just don’t screw around in her library or patronize her, and you’ll be fine.”), but even so…he could not help but feel uneasy around her.

 

If anything, at times, she reminded him rather unpleasantly of Watto. More than slightly short-tempered, efficient, pragmatic – admirable traits, yes, but also more than slightly intimidating.

 

So even now, Anakin Skywalker stepped into the Jedi Archives, large and roomy and grand – he felt almost small in them. Then he made his way to the analysis droids, handed them the toxic dart (carefully), to analyze.

 

“Interesting. It seems the closest approximate match to this dart is the old Kaminoan designs…”

 

 _Kamino_. Anakin had heard of the planet in passing – as long as you had plenty of wealth and prestige and good manners under your belt, you could find cloners and other people (or Kaminoans) to do things for you. So someone had put a hit on Satine, and the bounty hunter took it up if only for…

 

Some sort of vengeance killing? Putting the war in motion? Credits? It was probably the last one.

 

Anakin sighed, placed the Kaminoan dart in his pocket again, thanking the droid for its assistance. Now…now the best he could do was go to the Archives and find a way to get the Kamino coordinates. And then…then he could get into action.

 

It was on the way to the planetary database that Anakin bumped into one of the well-carved sculptures that seemed to line the Archives. Quickly putting it back into place (he doubted Jocasta would be happy if he broke anything), Anakin took a while to look it over.

 

 _Count Dooku._ Anakin had heard of him in passing, once again – a renowned Jedi Master who left the Jedi Order if only because of the disgust he had with the Republic. Somehow, Anakin didn’t blame him – if anything, if what he had seen as a boy was any indication, the Republic was worse than useless. It had taken a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorum’s leadership in order to even remotely get things done.

 

Not that he was complaining about Valorum’s replacement. While Valorum was no doubt a good man, Palpatine got things done much quicker. And that was perhaps an understatement.

 

Palpatine was a good, honest man.

 

If only Obi-Wan realized this.

 

And then there was the matter of Dooku…Anakin only wished he hadn’t had to leave the Order. Even thinking about it, he wished that the Jedi Order didn’t seem irrevocably tied to the Republic. They claimed to be keepers of the peace, not soldiers, but if anything, they seemed more concerned about maintaining their public image than actually getting anything done.

 

Or perhaps he was being too harsh. After all, they were doing the best they could. At least that’s what Obi-Wan told him. Perhaps that was what it was like in this bizarre, almost upside-down world, but even so…

 

“Padawan Skywalker.”

 

Anakin almost jumped at the sound, almost knocking over the statue again, righting it just in time. There stood the Archivist herself, dressed in white robes, her hair up in a strict bun, accentuating her sharp features.

 

“I am so sorry…” Even now, apologizing profusely to Jocasta Nu, he was relieved when she, gently, held up a hand.

 

“It’s perfectly all right,” she said. “You require anything?”

 

“Oh. Right.” Anakin cleared his throat. “Is there any chance I can access the databases? I need to look up…a planet that may have a role in Satine Kryze’s attempted assassination.”

 

“I see. Do you have a name? There could be multiple planets that are, shall we say, suspect.”

 

“Kamino.”

 

It was later looking it up that Anakin found, to his utter bewilderment, that Kamino wasn’t found.

 

“Interesting.” Jocasta Nu cocked a brow. “I would normally say that if an item is not in our archives, it does not exist – but if anything…”

 

“Maybe it’s incomplete.”

 

Jocasta let out a bark of laughter. “Padawan Skywalker,” she said, “I do assure you that our archives are very thorough.”

 

“Nobody’s perfect.”

 

“Perhaps there is some sort of bug in the Archives. Let us try again.”

 

They did.

 

Still nothing.

 

Anakin sighed. “Maybe someone deleted it?”

 

“Perhaps. But the Archives are very high-security. It would have required someone with access to the Archives, or exceptional skills, to accomplish such a feat.”

 

Whoever was trying to kill Duchess Satine Kryze must have been trying to cover their tracks. In the end, that was the only thing that Anakin could conclude.

 

Bidding a quick farewell to Jocasta Nu, Anakin left the Archives, sighing in half-disappointment, half-relief. On the one hand, talking with Jocasta Nu was less difficult than he thought it would be – perhaps she was in a good mood today.

 

But on the other hand, there was the matter of Satine’s attempted assassin being very clever and deft.

 

And in regards to a Padawan on his first mission, that couldn’t be good.


	14. Chapter Thirteen: The Adventure Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anakin takes off for Kamino.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Sorry for the lateness of this chapter; I've been busy.

  
It was long after he informed the Jedi Council of the new development that Anakin noticed frown lines crease Master Yoda’s brow. “To Kamino, you must go, young Skywalker – and find out the identity of this mysterious attempted assassin.”

“He is right,” Master Windu added. “Every moment you delay, the assassin may strike again.”

Anakin was almost tempted to argue that he  _knew_  this, but merely nodded. “I guess the only problem is finding Kamino where you don’t know where it is, exactly.”

“One of the fighters in the hangar may be of use to you,” Master Windu said. “If the navicomputers are working properly.”

“Thank you.”

“May the Force be with you, young Skywalker.”

It was almost rare that Master Windu would say that; Anakin could only conclude he was as worried about Duchess Satine as he and Obi-Wan were. “May the Force be with you.”

Even firing up the engines for one of the fighters (a fighter he had used on certain missions out of Coruscant), Anakin looked through the navicomputer, until, finally, finding the necessary coordinates for Kamino. He smiled; even if the slicer had managed to delete it from the Jedi Archives, he or she had apparently overlooked the navicomputers.

Unless…

Anakin furrowed his brow; for all he knew, it could be a trap.

Still, it didn’t mean a trap couldn’t go both ways.

In the astromech’s seat, R4-P17 whistled and beeped – almost as if in impatience.

“Don’t worry, Arfour,” Anakin said, grinning in spite of himself. “We’re going. We’re going.”

And they lifted off into the starry skies, and off to adventure.


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Romance and Intrigue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Obi-Wan and Satine return to Mandalore, and Anakin gets the first pricklings of something-not-being-right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Not sure if I got the politics of Mandalore right. Feel free to correct me if I got them wrong.

  
Even now, returning to Mandalore was almost odd. Even descending on Mandalore, Satine mused, at least on their first day, was almost like seeing a ghost. If only slightly stranger. Not that she minded. It was good to come home, to see that the Prime Minister was at least doing his best to try and rebuild. And with Obi-Wan...

It had been a long while since she and Obi-Wan had seen one another. And if anything, he seemed to have become quite formidable -- not quite a Master yet, but on the way to becoming one.

And yet at the same time...

“Are you all right?” Even now, watching one of Mandalore’s sunsets with Obi-Wan, Satine doubted that she’d ever felt more at peace than she did now. And Obi-Wan’s voice, casual, comforting, familiar -- even now, that helped.

“I am,” she said, softly. “It’s simply...odd to be home.”

“Still?” There was a hint of teasing in Obi-Wan’s voice, though.

“Yes,” Satine said, laughing slightly in spite of herself. Then she grew more serious. “I should be back on Coruscant. Helping to prevent an army of the Republic.”

“I know. Don’t worry,” Obi-Wan said, “I’m certain my Padawan will be able to deal with it.”

“You really think so?” Not that she doubted Anakin. At the very least, his intentions were good, even if his experience was uncertain, to say the least.

“Of course.”

Satine smiled, and they went back to watching the sunset, enjoying this small moment of peace, away from politics and plotting and war.

 

***

_Kamino._

Even now, drawing up towards it, Anakin could not help but be awed by its beauty, its danger. The seemingly perpetually storm-tossed seas were quiet and calm, and yet even now, bringing the ship in for a landing, he could not help but feel oddly unsafe. A stranger on a strange planet. And to be fair, that was nothing new, but even so…

_What if it’s a trap? What if the slicer left the navicomputers untouched to lure me here?_

R4 beeped, almost as if picking up on his partner’s distress.

“Don’t worry, Arfour,” Anakin said, gently petting the droid’s dome. “I’m all right. Just a bit nervous.”

Even now, taking a deep breath and assembling his “professional Jedi face” (he learned it from watching Obi-Wan. His master was an astonishingly good negotiator, really), Anakin headed off towards the clean, disturbingly sterile city of Kamino with R4 in tow.

Perhaps it was being so used to the less-than-clean-and-tidy (to say the least) alleys of Mos Eisley (and other places), but something about Kamino’s cleanliness (to say the least) made Anakin feel uneasy. Everything seemed too bright, and not even in a pleasant way – if anything, it looked about as welcoming as a medic’s waiting room.

R4 beeped nervously.

“Don’t worry, Arfour,” Anakin said. “We’re just going to get the necessary information and then leave.”  _At least I hope._

Even now, the sinking feeling in Anakin’s gut, the feeling that this was a trap, would not subside.

And Anakin hated it.


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Lama Su

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anakin meets the Prime Minister for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Sorry for the shortness of this chapter.

The Kaminoan who stood before him, Taun We, was tall and slender, with a long, elegant neck and large, almond shaped eyes. Even as she beckoned towards him, Anakin could not help but feel nervous. The Force was practically shrieking its warning so loudly that it threatened Anakin’s ability to think straight. Even now, taking calming breaths, focusing on what the Kaminoan was telling him (that they had been expecting the Jedi for quite some time) managed to calm the shrieking in the Force, if only slightly. It now died down to low, almost insidious whispers, which licked and nibbled at the edges of Anakin’s consciousness, unwilling to simply let him be.

 

“Allow me to introduce you to Prime Minister Lama Su.”

 

Even now, greeting the Prime Minister, Anakin could not help but feel uneasy. Nothing seemed to help – even Obi-Wan’s meditation lessons and platitudes weren’t keeping the threatening whispers at bay.

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Padawan Skywalker,” Lama Su said. “Come – we have something to show you.”

 

And even now, following Lama Su into Force-knew-where, Anakin could practically hear the Force screaming louder than before, but he, slowly, almost agonizingly, willed it to calm.

There was no time to panic.

At the very least, he’d find out who was behind the attempt on Satine Kryze’s life – and then he would worry about what the future would bring.


	17. Chapter Sixteen: Complications.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anakin sees the clone army for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Even walking through the room, Anakin could not help but be overwhelmed by the sight before him. Several men, all of them looking exactly alike, seeming around his age or so, eating at the tables in the mess hall, or, below him and Lama Su, training for combat, dressed all in white uniforms. Anakin, almost, could not help but swallow heavily, trying to keep his feeling of growing dread from showing on his face.

 

Fortunately, Lama Su seemed to have either mistaken Anakin’s distress for being touched by the gesture – whatever it was – or didn’t seem to have noticed. Or chose not to notice. “Do you like your army?”

 

“They’re…impressive.” Even now, Anakin could not help but marvel at how the soldiers seemed to march with perfect precision. “How long have you been training them?”

 

“Since birth.”

 

Anakin was almost tempted to protest, to point out how wrong it was, only for something in him to quickly correct him. _Think! You have a mystery to solve – you can’t let your personal feelings get in the way._ And yet…

 

It was almost amusing, frightening and sad at the same time that the voice in his mind, the voice that told him to not let his personal feelings get in the way of solving the mystery, sounded, ominously, like Obi-Wan.

 

Obi-Wan…as much as he cared deeply for the man, sometimes, Anakin wondered if he did what was right or what was “by the book” more often. He was an odd man – wanting to honor Qui-Gon Jinn’s memory, and yet…

 

Qui-Gon, at the very least, would have known what to do in this situation: trust in the will of the Living Force. It was one trait of Qui-Gon’s that Anakin wished Obi-Wan would imitate more often.

 

Then, unfortunately, he would find himself chastising himself for being unfair to Obi-Wan. After all, wasn’t he doing the best he could?

 

“Who commissioned you to build this army?”

 

Lama Su cocked his head, almost as if, momentarily, wondering why Anakin would be in need to ask such a question.

 

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Anakin said. “I do quite admire your army. I just wonder how you came to create something this…magnificent.”

 

Lama Su seemed placated, if only for a moment. “Not so long ago, a Jedi Master named Sifo Dyas contacted us to have us build this army. He said that he was experiencing horrible visions in the Force – visions of an unseen enemy converging on the Republic, intent on destroying it.”

 

To his horror, Anakin realized that it almost perfectly described some of the visions he had had. When he wasn’t dreaming of his mother, he was dreaming of the mysterious Sith Lord, the face framed in shadow, the darkness that stretched its tendrils over the Republic and smothered them in evil, corruption and death.

 

Night…night was about to fall on the Republic itself.

 

Still, he kept his face impassive, curious – if he betrayed one emotion, it was over. “Did he, really?”

 

“Yes. Why?”

 

“From what I can gather, Master Sifo Dyas died quite a while ago.”

 

Silence.

 

“A pity,” Lama Su said, his voice tinged with sadness. “He was a noble Jedi Master.”

 

“Yes,” Anakin said. “He was.” He could not say that he knew Sifo-Dyas very well, but at the very least, it was well to go along with the charade, for the time being. Suddenly, he was sympathizing with Obi-Wan a bit too well…

 

“So,” Anakin continued, “Who was your template?”

 

“We initially thought of using the DNA of a Jedi,” Lama Su said, “But the orders were clear. In the end, we contacted bounty hunter Jango Fett and had him provide the DNA that would become the genetic template for the clone army.”

 

“I would like to meet this Jango Fett, if you still have time.”

 

“Of course,” Lama Su said, “He has just returned from a trip abroad.”

 

“A trip? What for?”

 

“Business.” Lama Su’s voice was firm, but gentle, indicating that the topic was best not breached.

 

“Right. Can you take me to him?”

 

“Follow me.”

 

And Anakin followed Lama Su down the next hallway – and towards an uncertain outcome.


	18. Chapter Seventeen: Questions Unanswered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anakin meets Jango and Boba Fett, who sensibly decide to get out of there much later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

They didn’t find Jango Fett immediately. If anything, they found a small boy with dark hair, who looked at Anakin if only with suspicion. “What’s he doing here?”

 

“This is Jedi Anakin Skywalker,” Lama Su said, “He’s come to see the creation of our army.”

“Boba,” Taun We said, gently, “Is your father home?”

 

The boy merely nodded. Even now, looking at him, Anakin could not help but be reminded, if slightly, of Kitster Banai, his friend back on Tatooine. The boy darted off, quickly, yelling for his father, informing him that Taun We was here.

 

Then Jango Fett entered. He was a tall man, rugged and rather craggy, almost as if he’d seen a lot of travel. No wonder, Anakin mused.

 

“Welcome back, Jango,” Taun We said, “Has your trip been productive?”

 

“Very much so.” Jango’s eyes then flitted to Anakin. “Who is the visitor you have with you?”

 

“Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker. The Prime Minister just showed him the new clone army for the Republic.” Even now, Taun We’s words caused Anakin’s gut to clench.

 

Whoever was trying to assassinate Satine Kryze must have wanted war with the Separatists to come to pass. While Anakin could not exactly call himself a pacifist per se, at least not on the level that Satine did, even the thought revolted him. The very idea of using them as what basically amounted to slaves...even that he couldn’t imagine doing.

 

And to think that they might have tried to assassinate Satine just to start a war...

 

Even now, Anakin doubted he could sympathize more with Satine. And considering how he disagreed, that was quite an accomplishment, but it was true nonetheless.

 

“Indeed,” Jango Fett said, “Do you like it?”

 

“It’s very...admirable. A bit of a question, though,” Anakin said, “Who contracted you for it?”

 

“I was contracted by a man named Tyrannus,” Fett replied. “One of the Moons of Bogden. Sifo-Dyas told us to expect his arrival -- we thought we’d keep it a secret...at least until you were sent here.”

 

Anakin had to suppress a frown; even now, something wasn’t right here. And that would be putting it mildly. Nevertheless, he tried to smile politely, at least on the outside. “Thank you for your time, Jango.”

 

“Always a pleasure to meet a Jedi.” Jango, with an equally polite smile.

 

And Anakin and Taun We left.

 

 

***

 

Jango Fett was almost relieved when the Jedi finally managed to leave. Even now, something about him was already starting to unnerve Jango, to say the least.

 

“Pack your things, Boba,” he said, “We’re leaving.”  
  
And even now, Fett had a feeling that they weren’t going to come back.


	19. Chapter Eighteen: Jedi Trap.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anakin follows the Fetts to Geonosis, and thus gets captured later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

It was later going back to the Fetts’ room that Anakin frowned. Their belongings were missing; apparently, they had realized that something was guaranteed to go wrong now that he had showed up and decided to flee. Smart move, one could say. Even drawing up the viewscreen for their departure, he could already see them getting away.

 

He sighed, before running towards the ship. Because he would be damned if they got away that easily. Even now...

 

“Boba!” Jango shouted. “Get in the cockpit! I’ll hold him off!”

 

The boy obeyed, eyes wide with fear.

 

Even now, Anakin could not help but feel a twinge of doubt in him. How could he harm Jango Fett, when his son was nearby? But considering the assassination attempts on Satine’s life, which Jango was without a doubt a part of, he had to be brought in for questioning.

 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Anakin said, trying to keep his voice level, “But I will if I have no choice.”

 

Jango, of course, didn’t listen. Even now, grappling, fighting, and so on and so forth, even managing to sever Jango’s jetpack from him, Anakin realized, almost too late, that he was slipping towards the edge with Jango, with his feet tied as well.

 

 _Oh, not good_ \--

 

Even now, it was a good thing that Anakin managed to right himself in time, but even that was cold comfort. He sighed, sliding back onto the deck, just as Jango ran towards _Slave I_ and got on board, just as _Slave I_ was about to take off.

 

But not before Anakin managed to toss a tracking device onto the ship. If only for luck. Sighing, soaking wet, and humiliated, Anakin stumbled back towards his ship. At the worried-sounding beep from R4, Anakin grinned, if wearily.

 

“I’m all right, Ar-Four,” he said, “I just...got into a bit of a scuffle.”

 

The astromech let out an almost disapproving-sounding _whoo_.

 

“Really, I’m all right. As long as we follow that ship, we’re going to be fine.”

 

It was long after a series of less than pleasant events, to say the least, that Anakin finally managed to file his report to the Council. He told them everything – about the army, about Taun We and Lama Su, about the differing accounts of Darth Tyrannus (whoever that was; even now, the name didn’t inspire confidence, and that was probably putting it mildly) and Lama Su (and even telling them this, he could not help but wonder – what if Lama Su had actually _been_ Darth Tyrannus before he died? But he quickly brushed aside the thought. It was too ridiculous. _The Council would have known if a Sith Lord was among them, after all…_ ) calling Lama Su to create the clone army, versus hiring Jango Fett as the DNA code. He told them everything. When he finally finished, Master Windu spoke.

 

“If what you have told us is true,” he said, and Anakin could not help but flinch in annoyance at the words – did Master Windu think he was simply concocting this story for the sake of an elaborate prank? But he quickly, mentally, reproved himself – after all, Mace and the others on the Council were doing the best they could. They didn’t always agree with him – in fact, Anakin thought, it would be very rare when they _did_ agree with him – but at the very least, their intentions were genuinely good. “Then the Republic is in trouble indeed.”

 

“Into custody, you must take this Jango Fett.” Master Yoda.

 

“I’m on my way right now.” Anakin paused. “There also seem to be a lot of Trade Federation ships around Geonosis.”

 

“Believe you do, that the Trade Federation may have a part in this?”

 

Beat.

 

“I have a hunch,” Anakin said. “I just hope I’m wrong.”

 

Long after his meeting, of sorts, with the Jedi Council, ended, Anakin turned towards R4-P17. “Arfour,” he said, “I have a bad feeling about this.”

 

R4 continued to beep.

 

“Maybe it’s just a coincidence,” Anakin said, “But if there’s anything you learn when you’re with the Jedi, it’s that there’s no such thing as coincidences.” He sighed. “I’m thinking the Trade Federation was trying to make up for its lost dignity at the battle of Mandalore. If they had any to begin with.”

 

R4 beeped again, sounding almost amused.

 

“Really,” Anakin said, “Considering their actions at Mandalore…they’re not the most intelligent criminals out there.”

 

R4 beeped, almost as if in agreement.

 

Anakin brought the ship in for a smooth landing. Even now, reaching out his Force senses, he could already feel the presence of the Trade Federation on the planet. And something else – something that felt too familiar.

 

Anakin furrowed his brow. Even that presence – and another presence he felt, even more powerful than the other – felt, almost unpleasantly, like the Dark Side. He already ached to whip out his lightsaber, but even now, he knew that he was here to get answers, not cause mayhem.

 

Not that he was necessarily very good at it. Obi-Wan was the calmer, more disciplined one. Anakin, meanwhile, preferred the plainness of combat.

 

It was taking out the supplies from the ship that he found something that would surely help him in terms of getting answers: a Stealth Generator. And a speech recorder.

 

Anakin grinned, almost in spite of himself. This…this he could do.

 

“Arfour,” he said, “Stay with the ship.”

 

Arfour beeped in disappointment.

 

“I know, I know.” Anakin gently, comfortingly patted his dome. “But I’m going to have to do this alone. And if trouble breaks out, you’re going to have to be ready.”

 

Arfour’s beep was more resigned-sounding, if no less disappointed.

 

“I’ll be back. Don’t worry.”

 

And Anakin activated his stealth generator, before sneaking up towards the nearest balcony to see what would come to pass.

 

It took a while for the Separatists to assemble. Even now, perched on the balcony, watching them assemble -- they seemed to come from all sorts of worlds, Anakin mused. All sorts of planets that were less than happy with the Republic to say the least -- Anakin waited, coiled with anxiety, holding the recorder, listening to Count Dooku speak about forcing the Republic to sign a treaty. He waited, up until...

 

“What about the Duchess of Mandalore?” Gunray’s voice was thick with impatience. “I won’t rest until I have her head on my desk.”

 

Anakin nearly dropped the speech recorder in shock – and, later, he realized, anger. He supposed that he shouldn’t be surprised that Gunray was trying to get some degree of vengeance for what happened at the Battle of Mandalore, but even so…

 

_Breathe. Don’t blow your cover. Do your job._

“Patience, Viceroy,” Count Dooku said, in that smooth, gentle voice. “She will die.”

 

“Are you certain that this is the right thing to do?” The girl. The girl from Mandalore. The Sith apprentice. “Killing Duchess Satine will hardly recruit more worlds to our cause.”

 

“Padme, child,” Count Dooku said, ever so calm as always, “Those against Duchess Satine will turn to our side in time. And in turn, it will uproot the Republic. The Chancellor will have no choice but to go to war. It will be perfect.”

 

The girl, Padme’s, voice was quiet. “I still don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

 

Even now, perched on the balcony, Anakin knew he had to contact Chancellor Palpatine and the Jedi. But how?

 

It was then that he took out the communicator, changed it into more of a typing format. If they heard him, he would be sorry. And the mission would be sorry as well.

 

He typed, trying to keep it as quiet as he could. Fortunately, the Separatists seemed so deep in debate that it drowned out Anakin’s typing. At the very least.

 

Still, he had to be quick. Never mind if the Separatists could hear him or not. He still had to be quick.

 

MASTERS,

 

NUTE GUNRAY IS BEHIND THE ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT ON DUCHESS SATINE KRYZE.  COUNT DOOKU IS IN LEAGUE WITH THEM. THEY INTEND TO START A CIVIL WAR BETWEEN THE REPUBLIC AND THE JEDI.

 

I HAVE BEEN TO KAMINO. EITHER LAMA SU OR THE SITH LORD DARTH TYRANNUS (WHOEVER HE MAY BE) HAS ORDERED A CLONE ARMY CREATED. THE SITH APPRENTICE FROM MANDALORE, THE SURVIVING ONE, THE GIRL, IS ALSO HERE. SHE SEEMS TO BE THE ONLY ONE AGAINST ASSASSINATING SATINE KRYZE. THE ONE WHO DONATED HIS DNA FOR THE CLONE ARMY EXPERIMENT, JANGO FETT, IS ALSO HERE – I HAVE TRACKED HIM TO GEONOSIS. THE TRADE FEDERATION, HOWEVER, IS THE MOST PROMINENT IN SATINE’S ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION AND POSSIBLE CIVIL WAR.

 

SEND A COPY OF THIS TO BOTH MASTER OBI-WAN KENOBI AND CHANCELLOR PALPATINE. IT IS OF THE UTMOST IMPORTANCE.

 

-ANAKIN SKYWALKER.

 

Barely repressing a sigh of relief, Anakin sent the message off, wiped his brow, shutting off the communicator. Even now, though, he could sense that the argument had died off, replaced by a tense silence. Dooku then spoke.

 

“I believe we have a visitor.”

 

 _Stang_. Even now, Anakin wondered whether to flee, or to fight. On the one hand, fighting was in his nature. He was usually the type to draw a lightsaber, while his master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, preferred not to fight – though when he did fight, few could match him. On the other hand, Anakin was not a fool – he knew that he had to get back to Coruscant before he was captured.

 

In the end, he chose flight.

 

Not that it was easy. Even now, slicing through Geonosians that flew at him in a seemingly endless swarm, Anakin was already fighting for the exit. Except --

 

Blaster bolts. Blaster bolts, flying at him. And then he felt a stasis field settle over him, and, aching, sore, defeated, humiliated, Anakin settled into unconsciousness. 


	20. Chapter Nineteen: Wrong vs. Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Obi-Wan has a vision, and Count Dooku tries to convert Anakin to "the cause".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This is actually one of my favorite chapters. Especially in terms of Anakin and Dooku's interaction. It helps that Dooku's one of my favorite characters. What can I say; I'm a sucker for Well-Intentioned Extremists. ;-) Not to mention I think Anakin and Dooku should have gotten more interaction in canon. I really do.
> 
> Also, a quick warning for mentions of violence. Just in case.

It was the next morning that Satine emerged from her bedroom to notice Obi-Wan, still in his sleepwear, meditating on the balcony. He turned to look at her. “Satine. Are you all right?”

 

“I am.” Even now, she could not help but look over him in fascination. “And you?”

 

“I’m merely meditating.” Obi-Wan was vainly trying to sound light hearted, or at least casual. “Nothing more.” Then he grew more serious. “I believe Anakin may be in trouble.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I have a feeling that he may have walked into a trap. On Geonosis.”

 

“Then we have to go.”

 

“We can’t.”

 

Even now, Satine looked at him in disbelief. “Can’t? He’s your _Padawan_ \-- ’’

 

“I know, Satine,” Obi-Wan said, “But I have a duty to the Jedi Council, and to you. I can’t simply abandon it -- ’’

 

“Then I’ll go with you.”

 

Even now, Obi-Wan could not help but be surprised. He didn’t doubt Satine’s heart, but even so...

 

“They’re searching for you.”

 

“Then it is time I brought the fight to them. So to speak.”

 

Even now, Obi-Wan merely nodded. Satine was more than competent, after all. Wonderfully competent. And if they worked together -- not necessarily fighting, but other methods -- perhaps they could --

 

“All right,” he said, “Then we have no time to waste.”

 

 

***

 

 _“Anakin!” Even now, his mother’s voice was barely audible, pained through the crack of a Tusken’s whip, through the slice of a staff, through the smacking of a fist. “Anakin – you need to help me – Anakin –_ Annie _–_ ’’

 

_The Zabrak from Naboo, the beast who had killed Qui-Gon, his face a mess of black, almost lightning-shaped scars, yellow eyes glaring out at Anakin, his mouth a horrible rictus grin…_

_The girl from Naboo – beautiful and small, yet with the fighting power of a hurricane. An apprentice who would prefer more to strategize than fight, but when she fought, few could match her._

_And a man cloaked in black on a mysterious dark throne, with a serpentine, wrinkled face, ravaged by the Dark Side, his face bearing a horrible, evil grin as he laughed, delighted with the carnage before him: a father and a son, one dressed in black armor, the other with hair almost like Obi-Wan’s, dueling one another to the death. And it seemed the son was winning._

Eventually, Anakin came back to himself, snapped back to reality, only to realize where he was. He was in some damned Geonosian prison cell, trapped in some sort of force field, and his hands were bound. And he didn’t know where his lightsaber was either. He tried to reach out through the Force, but found himself blocked. He could have groaned in frustration.

 

He only hoped that they hadn’t hurt R4 as well. _If they hurt Arfour, they’ll have hell to pay. At the very least, if I can get out of this._

Then again, he had a feeling he would. He had been in worse situations before – the nest of gundarks, for example. Though Obi-Wan had tried to say that no, _Anakin_ had fallen in there, in truth, neither of them could say how exactly they had ended up in that situation. But they had both gotten out alive after that, and after moments of shock – especially on Obi-Wan’s part; “We’re still alive?!” was probably putting it mildly, regarding the _look_ on his poor Master’s face – they had managed to have some degree of a laugh about it.

 

Hopefully, he would find a way out of this as well. But in between the chains, the lack of the Force, and everything else, he would have to sit tight for now.

 

Perhaps he could negotiate a bit with Dooku to let him go. Try the old, “If you let me go, I won’t tell anyone” trick. No, Dooku wouldn’t fall for that one. He was ruthless, no doubt, and smart. You would have to be to have a job like this.

 

All right, “ _I know there is still good in you”_? No, Dooku wouldn’t fall for that one either. And even the idea of using it – he didn’t know Dooku. He had heard that Dooku was once a great Jedi and a respected Master, only leaving the Order if only because he feared that it had become corrupt – which was foolish, really. The Order was the farthest thing from corrupt one could get. They were keepers of the peace, not trying to cozy up to the greedy idiots in the Senate – but other than that, he didn’t know much about him.

 

At the very least, he could –

 

Footsteps cut off Anakin’s train of thought. Dooku was here. Even now, as he strode into the room, it seemed that he almost cast a shadow on the room. He was a tall man, clad in rich clothing, with a short yet full white beard and equally short pale hair. Even now, it was his eyes that chilled Anakin to the bone – even now, he felt almost as if he were looking into the eyes of a crazed animal.

 

A very articulate crazed animal, to boot.

 

“Anakin Skywalker.” The Count’s voice was cold, clinical, detached. “I expected someone of your reputation to be a little…older.”

 

 _Don’t respond to the bait. He’s mostly doing this to provoke you._ Even now, listening to Dooku, Anakin could have sworn he could hear Obi-Wan telling him how to handle the situation. Not that Anakin had met many Sith or Dark Jedi before, of course.

 

“I am dreadfully sorry you were captured in this fashion. They have gone too far. It is madness!”

 

Even now, Anakin had to suppress a snort at the claim. “I think you should have started thinking that when you tried to assassinate Duchess Satine.”

 

“I bear Satine Kryze no ill will. However, she is naïve – she would never accept the sacrifices being made in the name of a stabler Republic.”

 

“What could you possibly have to achieve by this?”

 

“Padawan Skywalker,” Dooku said, “We merely staged a peaceful protest at first. We merely said we disliked what the Republic was doing, what the Order was doing. And how do the Order respond? Trying to restrain us in the Republic.”

 

“They just want to keep the peace.”

 

“Perhaps,” Dooku said, “But I do not believe that they understand what keeping the peace _means_. They seem more concerned about their image to the public than keeping the peace.”

 

“They would never – ’’

 

“Indeed? I can hear Obi-Wan Kenobi resonate in your words, young Padawan. What do you, personally, think?”

 

“They aren’t perfect,” Anakin said, “But they do what they can.”

 

Silence.

 

“What are you really here for, Dooku?”

 

“To merely warn you, young Skywalker. I believe the Sith have taken a, shall we say, interest in you. And your mother. The Republic is also in danger.”

 

“Really?”

 

“What if I told you that the Republic was under the control of a Dark Lord of the Sith?”

 

Even now, even as Dooku said that, Anakin felt as if an airlock had opened in his stomach. “You…you’re a liar.”

 

“Believe of me what you will. But even so, it is the truth. The Republic is under the control of a Sith Lord known as Darth Sidious. The Viceroy of the Trade Federation was once in league with this Darth Sidious, but when he was betrayed by him at the Battle of Mandalore, he ultimately went to me for help.”

 

“I can imagine,” Anakin said, wryly. “Couldn’t risk his dignity, could he?”

 

Dooku ignored him. “And I believe, as the Chosen One, you may be able to help us.”

 

“What?”

 

“Yes,” Dooku said, “I was wondering if you would consider an alliance with us. To destroy the Sith.”

 

Even now, Anakin was torn. On the one hand, if the Republic was in danger, he had to do whatever he could to save it. If Satine and Obi-Wan were in danger as well, perhaps allying himself with Dooku was the most desirable possibility. And yet, even now…

 

“I can’t.”

 

“You can’t?” Dooku arched an eyebrow.

 

“I do appreciate your…trying to save the Republic, Count,” Anakin said, even now feeling the anger bubble up – how could he speak of the Republic that way? And yet something in Anakin was already whispering that maybe the Count was right and he was just fooling himself by refusing to acknowledge it. “But I can’t betray my friends.”

 

“A pity.” Dooku sighed. “I did think you would break away from the Order and do what was right. But it seems that it will…take a while to get you to come around.”

 

And he walked away, leaving Anakin alone in the darkness.


	21. Chapter Twenty: Unexpected Solace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anakin and Padme talk for the first time, and Obi-Wan and Satine embark on the rescue mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This was another one of my favorite chapters to write. I just love the interaction between Anakin and Padme in this chapter. Also, on an RL note, transferring from the psychology test was surprisingly easier than I expected. The good sort of surprising, that is.
> 
> Also, warning for mentions of torture. It's best you turn back if that stuff bothers you.

Time seemed to go by all too slowly. It seemed like hours, days, perhaps weeks, in this desolate cell, only punctuated by Dooku coming in to attempt to convert him using the Dark Side as well as other means – even now, feeling the lightning rage through him, even feeling Dooku roast him, it took all of Anakin’s willpower not to scream in agony – and the girl, Padme, coming in to help him. To bring him food, or to tend to the wounds from the electrical whip that Dooku used. It was after one particularly brutal beating that she let him down – it wasn’t like he was going to run away. He was too weak, too drained to do so.

“Don’t be afraid,” she said.

Even now, he looked at her, almost in surprise. “What?”

“That’s what the Code says. Your Jedi Code. Don’t be afraid.”

He snorted, jarred out of his surprise for a moment. “I’m not afraid.”

“But you are. You’re afraid you’ll fail her, aren’t you?”

Silence.

“Do you love her?”

“As a friend,” he said, but even that was almost a lie. Even as a small child, he was captivated by Satine Kryze’s grace and bravery and kindness, her integrity. Even now, thinking about Satine possibly being hurt again if the information reached the Republic too late…

But Satine was safe on Mandalore. There was nothing to fear there, was there?

Padme continued to dip the cloth in the cool water, soothing the sting of the wounds. Only for her to dip the cloth in the fluid as well, applying it to his wounds, making him hiss in pain. She grimaced, if only in sympathy.

“I know you don’t like it,” she said, “But it’s just so the wounds won’t get infected.”

Anakin snorted again. “I don’t think Dooku would use a whip that – ’’

“The cuts are pretty deep. He was pretty thorough with you.” She said it almost as if she was talking about the weather over a cup of tea with the Chancellor. Even that made Anakin shiver.

“You’re not at all like the others,” he said.

“Dooku crossed the line with the torture. He was meant to merely convert you, not wound you – I honestly thought he killed you yesterday when he turned up the voltage too high.” Padme’s voice seemed to darken with anger, not fiery anger, but anger merely as cool as ice. “I tried to get him to put you in a cell with more humane conditions.”

“It didn’t succeed, did it?”

“No,” she said, almost sadly. “He said Sidious’ orders were clear.”

“So he  _was_  lying to me,” Anakin said, more sourly. “I should have known.” A pause. “What does Sidious want with me, anyway?”

“Your abilities, I assume. After all,” Padme said, “The prophecy of the Chosen One is sought by many, Jedi and Sith alike. You could be one of the most hunted men in the galaxy, even long before you were born.”

“That’s something I don’t want to think about.”

“I know. But it is the truth.”

Beat.

“What about you, Padme?” Anakin said, after a long while. “What do you want?”

“What do I want? Justice, I assume. The Jedi are noble, I will give them that, but they’re not…competent in terms of enforcing that justice. Keeping the people safe.”

“You are right on that front,” Anakin said, “They seem more concerned with petty politics than keeping the people safe. I mean…they do their best, but even so – it’s not enough. Not that anyone would really…appreciate my saying that.”

“Why?”

“Well, because according to the Jedi,” Anakin said, smiling ruefully, “There is no why. There’s merely the Force.”

“It’s almost the same here as well. Perhaps the Jedi and the Sith aren’t that dissimilar.”

Silence.

“I…I’ll admit I don’t know. I just…you ever considered just making a run for it? I mean…you’re not at all like the others.”

“Going to the Jedi, you mean?”

“Not really,” Anakin said. “Just leaving.”

Silence. Padme seemed silent, sad, almost far-away, more of a vulnerable young girl than the Sith apprentice he had seen in his dreams.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I didn’t have a choice. When I was a girl…they took me.”

“What do you remember?”

“Fire.” Her voice seemed to break. “Fire and smoke.”

Even looking at her, Anakin wanted to reach up, to comfort her – if it were Obi-Wan, he would have consoled him with a gentle touch to the shoulder (not a straight-up hug. His master, being a Jedi in every sense of the word, wasn’t quite used to such enthusiastic displays of affection) and a reassuring word. But even now, he wasn’t sure if Padme wanted to be touched.

“One could say that Lord Sidious…saved me, in a way. He trained me as his apprentice. He taught me how to fight, how to survive – and yet at the same time, it was like a secondary prison. Sidious…he tells many lies,” Padme said, softly, “And the architecture is often difficult to see.”

Even now, Anakin could still remember the Masters’ discussions about how “clouded” the Force had become – could Sidious be influencing it? They hadn’t discussed it in front of him, but occasionally, he had caught…snippets.

“I know I technically should not be telling you this,” Padme said, “But he’s operating inside the Senate. You need to be careful.”

“I…I’m guessing you’re not lying about that.” But in the Force, there was no “guessing”. She wasn’t lying. Not in the slightest.

Footsteps. Padme looked towards him in panic. “Lord Tyrannus is coming,” she said, “Quick!”

Even as she readjusted chains and cuffs and used the Force to make sure his arms didn’t dislocate in the process, even as she took her position near him as Darth Tyrannus (Count Dooku) approached, Anakin could already feel the chill come over him again. There was a glitter of triumph in the Count’s eyes, making his haughty, almost sculpted features appear almost…bestial.

“Apprentice,” Count Dooku said, in his deep, refined voice, “Why are you here? Should you not be at your post?”

“This is my post,” Padme said, calmly, almost as if stating what should be a fairly obvious fact.

“Don’t play games with me, apprentice. You were helping him escape, weren’t you?”

“I was taking care of him,” Padme said, “Your whip did more damage than necessary.”

“The ‘damage’  _was_  necessary, my apprentice. It appears the Jedi have already found out about our clone army – Master Yoda was kind enough to attempt to negotiate your release. No matter. They head towards Geonosis into a trap. Indeed, the Clone Wars have already begun.”

Even hearing Dooku’s words, Anakin felt as if an airlock had opened in his stomach. _Satine, oh Satine…I am so sorry…_

“Everything has proceeded according to plan. And indeed, your friends, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Satine Kryze are also on the way.”

Even long after Dooku had left, Anakin turned to look at Padme, who seemed quiet and calm as always – it was only then that he realized that she was trying not to look at him. Guilt seemed to pour out of her in waves, guilt over, no doubt, causing a galactic conflict that would take many lives.

“Padme…” he began, trying to comfort her, only for Padme to stop him.

“I am still a child of Naboo, Anakin,” she said, softly. “I never wanted it to come to this. And especially not over a desire for a corporate criminal to reclaim his lost dignity.” Her voice hardened then, sharp and angry.

“Don’t worry,” Anakin said, “It will be all right.”

She gave him a sad smile. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

 

***

 

Whatever original plans they may have had in mind were quickly swept out the window -- at least in regards to how they were going to rescue Anakin, preferably discreetly -- when the Geonosians attacked. Even now, as the two of them did their best to fight, to defend themselves, it seemed that more seemed to keep coming the deeper they moved -- as well as testing droids. Finally --

“Don’t move, Jedi!”

Even now, Obi-Wan sighed, almost resigned, holding up his hands, as a bounty hunter arrived, dressed in blue and white armor, wrist launcher activated as if to fire. “Very well. We surrender.”

“Good. Take them away.”

Obi-Wan sighed, turned to look at Satine even as they were led along by Geonosian guards. “This went slightly more off-kilter than I would have liked.”

“Nothing that you can’t find a way out of,” Satine said. “I doubt you need to worry.”

Even now, though, being escorted to the carts, Obi-Wan could not help but be worried. It was not death he was worried about -- if he died in service to the Jedi, there was no need to worry. But there was so much he meant to say to Satine, so many things left unsaid, that he could not help but worry.

He cared about Satine. More than life.

And if he told her none of it -- what would happen to the both of them? 


	22. Chapter Twenty One: Suitable Complacency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the battle of Geonosis begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This was another one of my favorite chapters to write. I just love the little character beats between Obi-Wan, Anakin, Satine and Padme here.

They were placed in one of the carts. Even now, Obi-Wan already had a feeling as to where this was going -- it was a time-honored Geonosian tradition to send political enemies (or perceived spies, such as themselves) out to the arena to be executed. Obi-Wan was far from scared of facing whatever hellish beasts the Geonosians could think of in order to terrorize them. And yet...

“Are you all right?” Satine’s voice was soft now. Subdued.

“I am,” he said. “And you?”

“More than ready for what comes.”

Even now, that reply was enough to console Obi-Wan, at least somewhat. And yet...

“Satine,” he began, “There was something I wanted to tell you, back on Mandalore, but I wasn’t able to. It’s just...”

“I know.” Even now, looking at her, looking into her eyes, Obi-Wan felt, almost, as if he had achieved some sort of stability in this place. They were most likely going to die, but at the very least, he had some measure of peace. Satine was worth fighting for -- more than worth fighting for. Brave. Principled. Kind. Good.

And at the very least, if he could die fighting (so to speak) side by side with her, it was more than worth it.

***

The cheering of the crowd was almost deafening. Even with a quick “Good luck, Anakin Skywalker” from Padme, even with a quick reassurance to her that he would be, Anakin still could not help but feel almost nervous. Still, he tried to compose himself, tried to tell himself, over and over again, to remember the Jedi Code.

_There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no death, there is the Force._

The last one was the most reassuring – and yet the most blatantly untrue. There was death; he had seen plenty of death on Tatooine. He had seen death claim Qui-Gon Jinn, the man who would have been his mentor. Though Obi-Wan was firm and gentle and kind and good, at the same time, he could not help but wonder what life he might have known should Qui-Gon have lived to train him.

The sunlight on Geonosis was almost blinding, and for a moment, Anakin could have sworn he was back on Tatooine again. Still, he willed himself to be calm.  _There is no emotion, there is peace…_

Finally, Anakin’s cart came to a halt – and yet at the same time, he could have sworn there was some degree of movement from the corner of his eye. Could it be –

No, he had to be hallucinating.

Then the cart drew up by his side to reveal Obi-Wan Kenobi and Satine Kryze. Even now, he grinned in relief – though the grin was slightly strained. There was something different about the two of them – something that almost bespoke…closeness. It was probably best to leave it unsaid, though. There were more important things at stake.

“You two all right?” he asked.

“Relatively,” Satine said. “We decided to come and rescue you.”

Anakin grinned. “Thank you…I assume.” He sighed, looked around at the cheering crowd, eager for blood. “I can’t say we’re in very good circumstances, though.”

“That,” Obi-Wan said, wryly, “Is obvious.”

Then the carts jerked again, and they were brought over to the poles, chained to them. Anakin turned to look at Obi-Wan. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

Obi-Wan gave a good-natured snort. “I’d be more worried if you didn’t, frankly.”

Eventually, the crowd quieted down as Archduke Poggle The Lesser stepped out to speak. “People of Geonosis,” he said, “What a unique occasion we have before us today! For we do have in our midst, the most heinous traitors of the Republic!” Even now, listening to Archduke Poggle the Lesser continue to speak, rattling off the most disgusting bantha poodoo that was no doubt written for him – probably by Count Dooku, Anakin thought – before finally: “What do these…traitors deserve?”

“There’s an instance of hypocrisy right there,” Anakin whispered, leaning towards Obi-Wan the best he could.

“Not now, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, but Anakin thought he could see Obi-Wan smile, if only slightly.

And even that pleased him.

And then they brought out the beasts. The reek came first – a bulky, oversized creature with mighty horns and an almost beak-like shape to its snout. Prodded by Geonosian guards, the reek was flushed red – it had no doubt been bred to specifically execute “traitors” and political enemies.

Next came the nexu, an almost feline creature with spines all over its back, and four eyes, its mouth filled with sharp teeth, drawn back into a smile that brought to mind the maalras of Dxun.

And finally came the true crowd pleaser – the acklay. An almost mutant mix of insect and amphibian, the acklay had great pincers and that face, with its almost bill-like mouth…from above, Anakin could hear the young boy, Boba Fett, eagerly reciting to his father the acklay’s many, many feats.

“It would be touching if we weren’t about to die.” Obi-Wan, as usual, trying to find some degree of a sarcastic reply for the situation. Anakin almost admired that – almost.

“We just need to find a way to get out of this situation,” he said. “What do you suggest?”

“I say patience.”

At Anakin’s snort, Obi-Wan said, “And by that I mean, lull the crowd into a false sense of security. Then, once they’re suitably complacent, turn the tables.”

“I think by the time they’re ‘suitably complacent’, we’ll be  _dead_  – ’’

“Not quite,” Obi-Wan said. “See the reek over there?”

Anakin nodded. “It looks…riled up.”

“They’re supposed to be,” Obi-Wan said. “They’re bred that way for gladiatorial purposes.”

Even now, thinking of that – slavery, even – Anakin could not help but feel some sympathy for the reek. Instinctively, he reached through the reek’s barriers – if anything, the reek seemed to be in pain. He sent waves of calm to the beast, and the beast seemed to relax, if slightly.

Obi-Wan merely gave him an approving nod.

And then Anakin sent a suggestion to the beast –  _break my chains. Let me help Obi-Wan._

The beast charged towards him. Anakin braced himself, almost worrying, for a split second, that he had angered the beast, that something hadn’t worked –

\-- only for the beast to break the chains. Wresting himself free, Anakin turned to look at Obi-Wan, grinning, before saying, “You’re going to have to keep still, Master. I’m going to get these off.”

And he cleaved through the chains with his lightsaber. Obi-Wan and Anakin then leapt on the reek, Anakin once again sending soothing feelings to the beast. Satine, meanwhile, seemed to have made her way to the top of the pole – much to the outrage of Nute Gunray. “She can’t do that!” the Nemoidian protested. “Shoot her, or something!”

Anakin had to chuckle to himself. If they could find a way to all but anger Gunray in the process, it was more than worth it.

“Patience, Viceroy,” the Count said, seeming almost amused by the Nemoidian’s petulance as much as Anakin – if anything, the Nemoidian sounded like a child who hadn’t gotten his way. “She will die.”

Over at the end of the arena, Padme seemed to be the only one who was suppressing a smile.  _Good work, Chosen One_ , the hidden smile seemed to say.  _Good work._

Anakin had to grin back in spite of himself. He had, after all, learned from the best. Then he turned back to Obi-Wan. “We have to go back for Padme.”

“Padme?”

“She helped me,” he said, “Back in that cell on Geonosis. When Dooku injured me –’’

“We need to find a way out of the arena first. Then we can worry.”

And then, at the same moment, battle droids marched out of the arena – heavy built, ready for action.

“Oh, this can’t be good.” Obi-Wan said.

“Don’t worry, Master. It’s nothing we can’t handle.”

But even now, Anakin could not help but agree. 


	23. Chapter Twenty Two: The Cavalry Arrives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Jedi arrive at Geonosis, and things get a lot more complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

  
Master Windu never imagined that it would come to this. But then again, long ago, he never would have imagined Dooku, no matter what misguided convictions he had, resorting to assassination plots with the Separatists.

So he could hardly be blamed, really, for having no choice but to corner Dooku in the arena. The Count, as usual, masked his surprise quite well considering the circumstances. “Master Windu. What an unexpected surprise.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Count,” Mace said, “The party’s over.”

He signaled towards the Jedi. Even now, Count Dooku smiled.

“Brave, but foolish, my old Jedi friend.”  
  
“I assure you, Dooku; these Jedi are more than capable of standing up to Geonosians.”

“But what of battle droids? Can they stand up to them?”  
  
Dooku knew nothing of the Jedi Order even now. And that, Mace mused, would no doubt be his downfall.

***

“Anakin, look!”

Satine’s voice jarred Anakin out of his thoughts on how to best take out the battle droids with the reek as the Jedi flooded into the arena. Even now, something in Anakin almost – _almost_  – loosened with relief: they were saved.

Even now though, as the battle began, it seemed that they were losing. Even now, long after Anakin had done the best he could on the reek, using it to trample the battle droids, occasionally raising his lightsaber to deflect blaster bolts, he mouthed to Padme, “Go, go!”

She shook her head.

“I don’t want you to get hurt!” Anakin continued to mouth.

Again, she shook her head.

It was then that Obi-Wan’s voice interrupted Anakin and Padme’s conversation, of sorts. “The others need our help,” he said, “There is no time for vengeance. And besides…”

Anakin turned to see Mace Windu fighting the acklay, while Kit Fisto fought the nexu. He sighed.

“Looks like this is going to take a while.”

And he, Obi-Wan and Satine proceeded to Mace Windu and Kit Fisto’s aid.

***

 

Even now, Mace Windu never thought that he would be happy to see Anakin Skywalker. But the moment that the acklay fell to a blaster bolt, after Mace’s constant hacking at it with a lightsaber (it was plenty weakened, of course, if resilient), and Mace turned to see Anakin behind him, he realized that he was wrong.

“Skywalker,” he said, “It is good to see you.”

He could have sworn that a smug smile flashed across Skywalker’s face, but the young Jedi was good at hiding it, rearranging his expression into an expression of the utmost serenity and respect.

“Thank you, Master Windu,” he said. “Get on here.”

“How did you even commandeer a reek –?’’

“Get on!” Anakin sounded frantic. “We don’t have much time!”

Normally, Mace would have questioned some of Anakin’s methods. The boy, after all, was dangerous -- brilliant, some would argue, but dangerous nonetheless. They had all but sensed his potential for good and evil in him the moment he had arrived at the Temple. Brave, and yet vulnerable from the separation from his mother. Kind, and yet with a potential to be manipulated into unthinking cruelty. Still...

“Very well.” Mace sighed and climbed on top of the reek behind Anakin. They did, after all, have a battle to win.

 

***

They were brave. More than brave, really. Perhaps some of the bravest Jedi one could ever know. They certainly earned their position, and yet --

Even now, watching battle droids cut them down, watching them fall, Count Dooku, now Darth Tyrannus, could only sigh. He had to end this. Once and for all.

He could only hope that the Jedi could see reason.


	24. Chapter Twenty Three: A Hint of Hope, A Hint of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the full cavalry arrives, and Mace Windu has a brief musing on fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

It was sitting out here in the middle of the arena that, somehow, Anakin doubted that they would be able to survive. Atop a reek, surrounded by Dark Jedi apprentices, somehow horribly beaten, with the corpses of other Jedi in the arena around them.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, “Remember the Code. There is no emotion…”

“There is peace,” Anakin said, softly. “I know.” And yet even now, it didn’t reassure him. He only hoped that Padme would be all right. She had to be. He wasn’t going to have someone dead because of him.

Meanwhile, Dooku spoke. “You have fought bravely,” the Count said, with something else in his voice – was it regret? – even as he did so. “You have fought valiantly. But ultimately, you were foolish. Give up your weapons, or be executed.”

It was even now that Anakin could have sworn that he heard…something. It started out almost like a whisper, a whirring at the edge of his subconscious, before growing louder and louder, and finally – a grin broke over his face.

Master Yoda was here. And the clones. The clones swung into action as they rappelled down to the ground, continuing to shoot down the droids, even as Yoda called out orders.

The ships landed, and Anakin, gently, sent a signal to the reek as he dismounted.  _Go. Get out of here. Quickly._

The reek snorted, before charging out of the Geonosis arena. Dodging blaster bolts.

Anakin only prayed that it would be all right.

Master Windu, meanwhile, was dueling with Jango Fett. Even now, Anakin ran towards him, to help him, only for --

“Anakin!”

Obi-Wan.

“There’s no time! Get on the ship!”

“We can’t just -- ’’

“Go!”  
  
And against his instincts, Anakin leapt on. He only prayed that Mace Windu would be all right.

But then again, Master Windu was more than a competent swordsman. He was brilliant.

_Of course he’ll be all right. You’ll see._

***  
  
Mace Windu was not a killer by nature. But even now, watching his lightsaber cleave through Jango Fett’s head, as the Separatist army seemed to retreat (they seemed to know all too well that the odds were far from in their favor), he could not help but feel a sense of sadness, of resignation, wash over him. Jedi did not take pleasure in killing. Nor did they kill everyone who seemed to be a threat. Otherwise, what would a Jedi be but a vigilante?

He could see the boy, the small child, running through the battlefield, the now-empty battlefield, if only to pick up the helmet in his hands and cradle it, almost in devastation. Even watching it, he could only hope that the child would find peace someday, somehow, with the loss of his father. But even now, the Force was uncertain. Whatever path the child took, it would be a mighty destiny -- a destiny that would cause others to turn and run at the mere mention of his name.

He only prayed that the Force was wrong.

Then he boarded the ships with the other Jedi to head off after Dooku. There was no time to waste.


	25. Chapter Twenty Four: A Leap In The Name of Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anakin makes a slightly different decision on Geonosis if only to rescue Satine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: I will admit, this was actually something that bothered me in AOTC -- Obi-Wan not letting Anakin rescue Padme. To be fair, I can understand why he did it (after all, they had a job to do), but it always bugged me somewhat. Not to mention I've always kind of wondered what would happen if Anakin did take that leap off the speeder.

The ground battle raged on below even as the ship sped after Dooku, ruthlessly determined to catch him. Even now, shouting orders to the clones, Anakin knew they were in good hands, and didn’t have to worry. After all, the clones would do their duty to the letter, so they didn’t have to worry there.

And yet...

“There! Straight ahead!” Even now, pointing ahead at Dooku, Anakin’s heart almost skipped a beat -- they were nearly there. So close...and yet so far.

“Should we set for stun?” one of the troopers asked.

“No,” Obi-Wan said, “We’re here to take him in. A stun blast may kill him.”

“I don’t think so, sir. It’ll just cripple his speeder -- ’’

It was then that a blast rattled the ship. It was lucky that the three of them were holding on, if only because --

Right when Anakin was about to breathe a sigh of relief, the next blast was stronger, and to his horror, Satine had fallen from the ship.

“Satine!”

“Anakin, no!” Obi-Wan sounded shaken -- if moreso. Almost as if --

_No. They’re just friends. Don’t worry._

“Lower the ship!” Anakin yelled to one of the clone troopers. “Quick!”

“Anakin, we can’t! I can’t take Dooku alone!”

“We can’t just leave her there!”

“Anakin, no!”

But Anakin had already made his choice. He jumped. Even now, rolling roughly down the slope of the sandy hill, he felt, almost, as if he were being punched repeatedly. Even now, forcing himself to recover quickly, he heard Satine stir, groan slightly.

“Anakin,” she said, “What are you doing -- ’’

“I couldn’t leave you.”

“But Dooku -- ’’

“He’s heading straight here,” Anakin said, pointing towards the hangar across from where they landed. “Hopefully, Dooku won’t get away.”

“Is there a mode of transportation we can use?”

“Hold on -- ’’

It was at that moment, another clone transport came along, with -- Anakin could have groaned and rejoiced at the same time -- Master Windu inside. Even now, as the Jedi Master gave Anakin a quizzical look, Anakin could have sworn that he could feel the heat of embarrassment, worse than the Geonosian heat right now, warm his cheeks.

“Where is Master Kenobi?”

“He’s heading straight there,” Anakin said, pointing towards the hangar. “Can you take us there?”

“Why did you desert him?”

“I couldn’t leave her like that.”

Anakin wished that Master Windu wasn’t arching his eyebrow like that. It was enough to make him feel even more embarrassed.

“Look, we can talk later,” Anakin said, “Can you take us?”

“Get in.” The tone of Mace’s voice said, quite explicitly, that the Council would go over this infraction later.

Even now, as the speeder headed towards the hangar, Anakin could only squeeze his eyes shut. Not at any sort of motion sickness -- Force, he lived for this sort of thing! Podracing, racing speeders, all but chasing roads, chasing sand and canyons, chasing stars -- but out of fear...what if his decision cost Obi-Wan his life? How could he live with that?

 _Don’t let us be too late,_ he prayed, clutching the rails at the front so tight his knuckles ached.  _Please, Force -- don’t let us be too late. Don’t let me be too late. Please, Force, don’t be too late..._


	26. Chapter Twenty Five: Beginning of a Duel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Obi-Wan has to take Dooku alone, as Anakin is momentarily delayed in his Big Damn Heroes moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Just got back from a long day at college. Anyway, I really like this chapter. I definitely think it ups the jeopardy in terms of Obi-Wan having to face Dooku alone. I'm thinking Lucas didn't go that route because he didn't want Anakin to look irresponsible leaving his Master to face Dooku by himself, but I think it's an intriguing possibility nonetheless.

Obi-Wan could have killed his apprentice.

 

All right, to be fair, not really. But even now, he was close to it. Did Anakin think he didn’t care about Satine? He did. But duty...duty came first. Satine would understand that. She would more than understand. And yet even now, something in him could not help but rebuke himself for such a thing.

 

He had fouled up similarly with Siri. He only hoped he would not do the same with Satine.

 

Dooku was here. Obi-Wan could sense him. He did not draw his lightsaber just yet -- he had to first negotiate. Anakin had jokingly called him “the negotiator” on more than one occasion, but in all honesty? That was what Jedi did. They did not wantonly slaughter, like the Sith, or exact vigilante justice like others would have no doubt wanted them to. They merely tried to negotiate. Fight only if they absolutely needed to.

 

After all, Jedi were keepers of the peace, not soldiers.

 

And yet even now...

 

“Dooku,” Obi-Wan said; he could practically hear his voice echoing in the hangar. “Count Dooku. I know you are here.”

 

A low, scornful chuckle from the shadows. “Are you going to kill me, Kenobi?”

 

“I certainly hope not. I do hope we can resolve this peacefully. If you cooperate, we can take you back to Coruscant in chains without bloodshed.”

 

“Chains? For what? Mere disagreement with the Republic?”

 

Frustration was already starting to build in Obi-Wan. “For attempted murder, for example. Multiple counts.”

 

Silence.

 

“Dooku,” Obi-Wan said, calmly, “Surely we can settle this like civilized gentlemen.”

 

“Perhaps.”

 

Dooku stepped out of the shadows, lightsaber drawn.

 

“That,” Obi-Wan said, keeping his voice level, “Is not what I meant by ‘civilized’.”

 

“From your point of view.”

 

Silence.

 

“Dooku, please,” Obi-Wan said, “You don’t want to start a war, do you?”

 

“If the Republic refuses to listen, yes.” A pause. “You have skills with a blade, Kenobi. The Battle of Naboo made that plain enough to see. Now I suppose it’s best to put them to work.”

 

“I will do what I must.”

 

“I am sure you will.”

 

Obi-Wan drew his lightsaber, drew on the Light Side of the Force to give him strength. _There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no death, there is the Force._

 

And even now, those words seemed to steady him. _There is no death..._

 

Dooku did not frighten him. He would not frighten him.

 

And then the duel began.

 

Even now, Obi-Wan had dealt with being all but outclassed. The Zabrak on Naboo was one example -- Obi-Wan could still remember the Zabrak all but tossing him around like a rag doll, hanging on the edge, about to fall into the bottomless pit that was Naboo’s reactor core, paying a price for his moment of anger charging at the Zabrak like that --

 

But this...this was a whole other league. Even now, Obi-Wan’s Soresu seemed woefully clumsy against Dooku’s Makashi, and Dooku’s skill with the Force was enough to keep Obi-Wan on edge. He managed to land in a few blows against Dooku, of course, but Dooku knocked him off his feet with a Force push, forcing him to land into a wall.

 

Force, it _hurt_. Even stumbling to his feet, stars flashing in front of his eyes, he could see Dooku practically gloating at his situation. And by creation itself, he hated it.

 

“Master Kenobi, you disappoint me.” Dooku’s voice bore the sickly mock-sympathy that was enough to give Obi-Wan the urge to retch -- or perhaps that was just the impact of being slammed into a wall. Probably the latter, really, Obi-Wan mused. “Yoda holds you in such high esteem. I assume he must be a fool then.”

 

“Don’t,” Obi-Wan snapped, “Talk about Master Yoda that way.”

 

“Indeed? Are you so _frightened_ of the idea of your beloved mentor’s pedestal being shattered? He’s given you nothing, Kenobi. Come with me. I could give you everything you ever wanted.”

 

“I’m afraid,” Obi-Wan said, “I’m going to have to decline.”

 

“Very well then. Such a pity. You threw away a promising career.”

 

“Consider it my highest honor, _Count_.”

 

They continued to duel, and even now, one of many thoughts that flooded through Obi-Wan’s mind was that, not for the first time, he was going to kill his Padawan when this was all over. _Damn Anakin and his hero complex..._

It would almost be sweet if it didn’t --

 

Obi-Wan was jarred back to the present by Dooku’s saber tangling with his, nearly severing his hand. It was only reminding himself to focus on the present and _not_ the future (why did Anakin have to make him so _angry_?) that he was able to get back to the battle at hand.

 

Eventually, Dooku seemed to get bored with the ordinary lightsaber combat. “You have determination, I will give you that,” he said. “But that will not be enough to save you.”

 

“How fascinating,” Obi-Wan said, “I would say the same thing of you.”

 

“It seems to be that whoever is the victor shall be decided with the skills in the Force...not a lightsaber.”

 

Even as he spoke, something behind Dooku seemed to detach. A bit of metal. Obi-Wan steadied his mind, took a deep breath, before turning to focus on the metal in question.

 

This, he mused, was going to be a long fight.


	27. Chapter Twenty Six: Big Damn Heroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anakin makes his entry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Hope this chapter doesn't come off as too anticlimactic. I'll admit, this is one of the chapters I'm not quite as proud of, TBH. #Cannot write a climax to save her life. XD

“There! Straight ahead!”

Even now, leaning forward, Anakin could see the faint silhouettes of Dooku and Obi-Wan dueling. Something in his chest clenched -- there was something about the fight that terrified him. If anything, it was obvious that Obi-Wan was now losing. Dooku was going to kill him.

And that he couldn’t accept.

“Master Windu --’’ Anakin began, but Master Windu didn’t need to be told. He turned to the clone leader of the ship. “Into the hangar. Quickly.”

And they obeyed.

Anakin, meanwhile, didn’t wait for an order. He sprinted into the hangar, leapt forward, just managing to block the killing blow from Dooku. Even now, looking up at him, Obi-Wan looked almost...relieved. And irritated at the same time.

“You took your time,” the Jedi Master said, almost grumpily.

“I know, Master,” Anakin said, “And I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I couldn’t leave Satine behind. She...I couldn’t leave a friend behind.”

_Or your potential future..._

Even now, he wasn’t certain whether or not Satine and Obi-Wan would get married. Even so, though, he hoped so, once the battle -- and impending war -- was over. Because if anything, it felt...only right.

“How touching,” Count Dooku’s voice had just enough sickly sweet sarcasm to make Anakin have the urge to just...wipe that smug maalras smile off his face. “Do tell me the Jedi Council will give you medals for your would-be heroism.”

“I’m not expecting medals, Count. I only do what I must.”

“Really, now? Come, boy -- your master has proven a bit of a disappointment. Let us see if you can do better.”

Even now, as the two of them dueled, green blade against red blade, Anakin kept reminding himself to focus, trying to block the strikes from Dooku’s blade.  _Focus, focus. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no death, there is the Force._

Even now, reciting the words in his mind over and over, he managed to somewhat calm his nerves and meet Dooku’s strikes. He couldn’t afford to be angry. He was a Jedi, after all.

And if he got angry...what kind of Jedi would he be?

“I sense great fear in you, young Skywalker.” Dooku continued to maintain that same, almost infuriating sense of smugness. “You have hate, you have anger -- but you don’t use them.”

_Don’t let him provoke you. Don’t let him provoke you. There is no passion, there is serenity..._

But even as the fight wore on, Anakin continued to get tired. No, worse than tired -- profoundly  _irritated._ Dooku was determined -- Anakin had to give him that. But even Dooku’s stamina couldn’t wear on forever.

One drawback to Makashi was that it couldn’t deflect blaster bolts very well. So even as a blaster bolt stung Dooku’s shoulder, the Count --

\-- Anakin felt the Count’s lightsaber cleave through his left hand before he could so much as even blink. Pain, searing pain,  _agony_  -- he could hear himself screaming, but it sounded so odd, almost disembodied, as if the scream was being made by someone else.

Dooku stood above him, his smugness replaced with an almost tranquil anger -- and even a bit of sadness as he spoke. “You know full well that you are beaten, Skywalker,” he said. “Surrender -- or I’ll be forced to destroy you.”

“Never.” Force, his lightsaber was just lying out of reach; he just needed to grab it -- call it to him with the Force --

“Enough.”

Mace Windu’s voice, hard and cold and sharp, almost like the edge of a vibroblade.

“Surrender, Dooku,” Mace said, “I never wanted it to come to this.”

“Master Windu, old friend.” Dooku’s old pleasantness -- of course, the term was to be used loosely -- returned to his face, to his voice. “You as well? I never wanted it to come to this.”

“Neither do I. But I will fight you if I must.”

“Very well, Master Windu. I would have preferred to not resort to violence, but you leave me no choice.”

Anakin, meanwhile, saw Obi-Wan stagger to his feet, with difficulty, before going to meet Dooku along with Master Windu. Even lying there, he hated being helpless, and yet --

He had to do something. But what?

And then, slowly, he made his way to his feet. He didn’t know how much help he’d be in terms of having a severed limb, but even so...

He called his lightsaber to his still-remaining hand and joined the fray. Everyone now joined the fray in some form or another, anything to keep Dooku from escaping --

Until Anakin found himself, along with everyone else, battered by a Force wave. It was now, lying on the ground again, stunned, dizzy, pained, that he saw Dooku run away. Chagrined, he could only turn towards Obi-Wan, almost blearily. “Are you all right?”  
  
“Yes. For my part.”

Even now, as Obi-Wan pulled him to his feet, as he and Satine greeted one another -- there was something about how Satine hugged him quickly before running a hand gently over his face that made Anakin wonder, but he stuffed it down as quickly as it came. He only hoped that Padme was all right -- and perhaps he could return the favor.

***

It was outside the arena that Padme saw the creature. Weary. Exhausted from the battle of the day. Even now, something in her suggested to let the creature go – he had seen enough of battle for the day. And yet at the same time, something else in her, the more Sithly part of her, suggested that keeping the creature around was a wise idea. After all, the reek could come in useful.

“Do you have a name?” she asked, softly. She opened her mind to the creature, letting him know – if it was a he – that she meant him no harm.

The reek gently snorted, shaking his great head almost as if saying,  _No. I don’t have a name._

“All right.” Even now, thinking of names, Padme could not help but think of one that would fit the creature far too well.  _Paxis._ Peace. Something that she had hoped that Dooku would bring – but he didn’t. He had tortured Anakin – the Jedi Knight she had met. There was something about him that was so vulnerable, so afraid, that she could not help but reach out to him.

She only hoped that he would be all right. For now, she would have to go undercover. Go underground. Dooku and Sidious would not take the news of her treachery well.

“I thought of a name for you,” she said to the reek, gently petting its snout. “Paxis. What do you think?”

The reek snuffled a bit now, gently nudging her hand.

“You like it then?”

Another snuffle.

“Very well. Come, Paxis,” Padme said, softer now. “You need rest.”

Even now, bathing the blaster bolt wounds, resting beside the reek, Padme, somehow, could not bring herself to rest. They were out of danger, by the ship in the hangar, and yet, even now…

Morning came. The Sith had gone. And now, Padme and Paxis were alone. And yet the dream still lingered in her mind. The dream of Mandalore. The dream of Sidious, using the marriage of a Jedi Knight and a Duchess to rend the galaxy asunder.

_Marriage…?_

Padme was told that the Jedi were not allowed to love. And Obi-Wan Kenobi and Satine Kryze, of all people…?

The best she could do was locate Sidious and Dooku, locate the Separatists’ war efforts. Try and sabotage them as much as she could.

They would not ruin the galaxy. She would die before it happened.

And that was a fact.


	28. Chapter Twenty Seven: The Wedding of Satine Kryze and Obi-Wan Kenobi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Darth Tyrannus gets back to Coruscant. Also, a wedding is had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Well, that concludes the AOTC portion of the fic. Next up is the ROTS portion, which I'll admit I'm ridiculously excited about. :)

Returning to Coruscant would have been worse than a mere indignity if not for one thing that they managed to accomplish. A few more, actually. Managing to survive a duel with several Jedi, for one thing. Getting back to Coruscant with the plans for the ultimate weapon, for another. And most importantly, the war had just begun.

It was only a pity that Padme Naberrie was nowhere to be found. If anything, she would have made quite a brilliant addition to the battlefield. Oh, well.

“Welcome home, Lord Tyrannus,” Lord Sidious said.

“I have wonderful news for you, my lord: the war has just begun.”

“Good, good,” Sidious purred, almost like a contented rancor. “In time, the Jedi will fall.”

Count Dooku, Darth Tyrannus, Dark Lord of the Sith, could already picture it. If anything, even the thought of an Empire to take over for the Republic, to make things how they should be -- orderly, honorable, just and good -- was almost too wonderful a possibility. Even now, he could already feel the niggling feeling at the back of his mind telling him that Sidious was far from interested in that, that the Naberrie girl had tricked him, but even so...

“And what of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Satine Kryze?”

“I believe the seeds of doubt have been planted,” Dooku said, “With any luck, his inevitable failure will draw him to our side. And Skywalker, perhaps.” Even now, he didn’t know how to feel about the boy. He was powerful, yes, but at the same time, he was woefully uncontrolled. His recklessness would far from make him an effective Sith apprentice. “With all due respect, Master,” he said, “What of the loss of Padme?”

“It’s an acceptable loss,” Sidious said, softly, “I shall have a new apprentice soon.”

Even now, though, Dooku could not help but distrust Sidious, if only slightly. He could not help but wonder, in a way, if he was being played for a fool.

***

It was far away on Mandalore that they had the ceremony. No one else present save for C-3PO, the protocol droid that Anakin had brought to Coruscant long ago, and R2-D2, Obi-Wan’s loyal companion -- and now Satine. Even now, as they took the old Mandalorian vows, Obi-Wan felt, almost, as if he was on the brink of falling, and yet on the brink of rising at the same time. It was a wonderful feeling.

And even now, leaning in towards Satine Kryze, as the two of them shared their first kiss as husband and wife, somehow, Obi-Wan doubted that there could be a happier day than this.

Then they turned to look at the sunset over the balcony, looking forward to a brighter tomorrow. Perhaps tomorrow would not be all that bright considering the beginning of the Clone Wars...but at the very least, it wouldn’t hurt to try. 


	29. Chapter Twenty Eight: This Is Where The Fun Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anakin and Obi-Wan begin the mission to rescue Chancellor Palpatine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Hope this chapter doesn't come off too rushed or anything.

Anakin Skywalker always loved to fly.

Even now, out in the heat of battle, in one of the most dire circumstances one could imagine -- the Chancellor being in danger -- he still loved to fly. The thrill of flying, the thrill of simply being in space -- the thought of flying away from Tatooine was a common dream when he was still a slave. Even here, it never seemed to get old.

And even now, with Obi-Wan Kenobi as his wingmate, R4-P17 as his companion, doing something that he loved -- it was worth the risk. Worth the terror of the droids that seemed to be getting increasingly smarter. Worth almost everything.

“We’re nearly there,” he said to Obi-Wan over his comm. “Straight ahead. It’s crawling with vulture droids; I doubt you can miss -- ’’

It was even now that a blast shook Anakin’s fighter, knocking out Arfour effectively. Even now, still shaken slightly from the blast, Anakin shouted, “Arfour! Are you okay?”

No answer. Breathing hard, almost panicking, Anakin proceeded to blast the other Separatist ships in his way, before Obi-Wan’s, “Anakin, Anakin! It’s all right!”

“Right. Sorry.” He could only pray that they could get Arfour to repairs after this was all over. If he wasn’t damaged beyond repair. He could only hope. Arfour had been one of his most loyal friends throughout his adventures. The thought of losing him would be almost too much.

“Just focus on the mission, Anakin. Rescuing the Chancellor. Nothing more.”

“Right.”

And they headed straight towards the _Invisible Hand_ , into the heart of the hangar, before leaping out of their ships, effortlessly slicing apart battle droids that attacked them. Even now, Anakin sighed in relief. “That was almost easier than I thought it would be. Are you all right, Master?”

“Perfectly fine.” Obi-Wan gave Anakin a weary smile. Then he turned to his own droid companion, R2-D2. “Artoo -- can you give us a schematics reading of the ship?”

Minutes later, R2-D2 began to whirr and beep in excitement. Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed. “What is it, Artoo? What did you find?”  
  
It was later examining the schematics that Anakin realized it. “It’s the Chancellor’s beacon. If we get to the General’s quarters in time, we might have a chance.”

“Might,” Obi-Wan said, softly. “Very well. Follow my lead.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Anakin said, chuckling, if slightly.

But even now, something in him could not help but be at the very least somewhat afraid. He had lost so many of those close to him in the war. He had even come close to thinking he had lost Obi-Wan, more than once.

He couldn’t afford to take any chances. 


	30. Chapter Twenty Nine: Will, Right, Responsibility.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Obi-Wan makes his first step towards the Dark Side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: I'm so sorry, you guys. I really am. I mean...I can do nothing but apologize for what's up next.

To say this was not one of the easier rescue missions they had had would have been putting it mildly, really. In between battling through elevators filled with droids and everything else, Anakin already had a feeling that getting Palpatine out would be far from easy. But it didn’t mean that it wasn’t worth the risk. Palpatine, after all, was almost a father to him -- almost as much as Obi-Wan was.

“Just remember, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said softly, “Rescue, not mayhem.”

“I know, I know.” Even now, Anakin was tempted to say that Obi-Wan didn’t have to tell him twice, but even now, it wasn’t really the case. He wanted to dispense justice to Dooku for what he’d done. He wanted to end the war. And yet at the same time, what if he ultimately ended up doing the wrong thing?

Obi-Wan had always impressed him, in a way, with his Jedi serenity, how he never seemed to trip up. Something that Anakin admired and was infuriated by at the same time -- infuriated by if only because at times, Obi-Wan seemed to simply not get it, in all honesty.

“And follow my lead,” Obi-Wan said, “I have no desire to repeat Geonosis.”

“Neither do I, Master.”

They walked in, now, to the General’s quarters, Anakin’s hand on his lightsaber. Obi-Wan  _had_  said, “rescue, not mayhem”, and yet at the same time, there was no harm in being watchful. After all, anything could be waiting to ambush them while they were trying to rescue Palpatine. Just about anything.

Or anyone.

It was completely dark in the General’s quarters -- the lights always seemed to be among the first to fail whenever something was under attack. Then the ship shook and the lights came on again. What Anakin saw caused him to barely suppress a gasp.

There was Palpatine, in the General’s chair, cuffed, seeming pale and frightened and almost in pain. And worse. To think of what Grievous and Dooku must have done to this brave, good man was enough to make Anakin almost forsake his vow of rescue, not mayhem, and kill Grievous and Dooku himself.

But for now, it would have to wait. Once Palpatine was safe, then they could blow up the ship.

“Chancellor.” Obi-Wan was more composed than Anakin felt; even now, Anakin didn’t quite know how he did it. “Are you all right?”

“Dooku.” The word was small, almost a warning. And as if on cue, the fallen Jedi himself slinked out of the shadows on the balcony, flanked by battle droids.

“Follow my lead,” Obi-Wan reminded him, almost as if Anakin was thinking of forsaking that vow, of causing mayhem.

“I know, I know.” But even now, he doubted it would be easy. Dooku had beaten him once at Geonosis. Dooku had eluded the Jedi other times. This war had to come to an end -- but how?

“Your weapons, please, gentlemen,” Dooku said. “We don’t wish to make a mess in front of the Chancellor.”

“You won’t get away this time, Dooku.” Obi-Wan, ever the mask of serenity, hiding behind it a shade of menace. If anything, one of the most terrifying aspects about his master, at least at times, was how he never seemed to raise his voice when he was angry. The fury of a Jedi Master...

Even as the fight began, Anakin could already guess what Obi-Wan’s plan was. Deceiving Dooku if slightly, before changing their fighting styles from ones they were far from familiar with to their regular ones. Just to catch him off guard. If anything, it was not just a workable plan, but a fitting one as well. Dooku, after all, was far too arrogant to underestimate himself --

\-- and for good reason. Even now, barely managing to recover from Dooku’s latest strike, a Force wave that sent Anakin careening into the wall, Anakin winced, rubbing his temples if slightly, watching Obi-Wan dueling Dooku. If anything, Dooku seemed to be having the upper hand, only for Obi-Wan to --

With one slash of a lightsaber, Obi-Wan brought Dooku almost effortlessly to his knees. Severing his hands -- both of them! -- and taking his lightsaber. Two lightsabers, one red and one blue, crossed at Dooku’s throat, Obi-Wan about to kill --

\-- and Palpatine almost goading him to. “Finish him, Master Kenobi. End this.”

“No!” Anakin ran towards Obi-Wan, almost in a panic. “It’s not the Jedi way.”

But it didn’t stop Obi-Wan in the end from executing Dooku. Even looking into his eyes, those cold, almost sad eyes, it was as if Anakin had never known him at all.

“I’m sorry, Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s voice was calm. Too calm. Almost flat. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted it to come to this.”

“I know.” But even now, Anakin didn’t believe it.

The best they could do was get Palpatine out of there. And after he was out, get to the nearest escape pod. At least then -- then things would become more straightforward. 


	31. Chapter Thirty: Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anakin, Obi-Wan and Palpatine manage to escape INVISIBLE HAND, Obi-Wan reunites with Satine, and has nightmares of a possible future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Anakin was almost born for the experience of piloting. Obi-Wan knew that. But even now, with his former Padawan at the controls, he sighed. “Anakin, are you certain you can handle this?”

“Under the circumstances, I’d say the ability to pilot this thing is irrelevant. Strap yourselves in.”

Obi-Wan did. Artoo-Detoo beeped. Even now, Obi-Wan regretted that they had been unable to rescue Ar-Four earlier. If anything, the astromech had been a loyal companion to Anakin, and would be missed --

But even now, even as Anakin continued to pilot the thing, even as in the middle of ordering the flaps and drag fins to extend and the hatches to open, even as they continued to land in perhaps one of the most spectacular ways possible -- Obi-Wan knew he had to trust in Anakin. To trust in the Force. It was almost similar to what Qui-Gon had said long ago, to be mindful of the Living Force. And even now...even now it was true.

He had to trust Anakin.

After all, Anakin knew what he was doing.

***

It was landing much later, and reuniting with the clones and the other Jedi -- Anakin never thought he would be happy to see Mace Windu again, but in a crisis, one had to rule out the possibility of any attachments being unlikely -- as well as Jar-Jar, who almost abandoned his composure to bounce over and hug Anakin in delight, that Anakin could not help but grin. Despite everything that had happened, they were alive. They had succeeded. And even that -- even that was a miracle in and of itself.

It was later, when the crowd dispersed, that Anakin turned to look at Obi-Wan. “Are you coming, Master?”

“Oh no, I’m a...bit too old for politics.”  
  
“Come on. This operation wouldn’t have succeeded without you, Master.”

“You got us here in one piece.”  
  
“You...” Even now, something in Anakin found it difficult to say “killed”, so he contented himself with, “You defeated Count Dooku.”

“Very true. Go, Anakin. You more than deserve a break. I, in the meanwhile...I must rest.”

“If you say so, Master.” Anakin grinned, quickly, and Obi-Wan chuckled almost in spite of himself as well.

Anakin sighed and watched Obi-Wan go, walk far away, if only to avoid having to spend time with the politicians. He almost didn’t know why Obi-Wan was giving him all the credit -- true, he had managed to -- miraculously -- land the  _Invisible Hand_  in one piece, but at the same time --

“Knight Skywalker, may I have a word with you?”

Master Windu. Anakin sighed, turned to face him. He could not say that he and Master Windu were on the best of terms. Even so, it was best to at least try and be somewhat polite. This was a Jedi Master one was speaking to, after all.

“I would like to say,” Master Windu began, “You and Master Kenobi did admirably in your dealings with Count Dooku.”

It was thanks to years of practice in the Order that Anakin was, barely, able to hide his surprise. Even now, he couldn’t help but wonder if Master Windu giving him a compliment, of sorts, was some sort of warning -- almost like a pacifist having to pick up a weapon.

“My thanks, Master Windu,” Anakin said, “But if anything, the praise should go to Obi-Wan. Without him...” He sighed, trailed off -- even remembering how Obi-Wan had killed Dooku in cold blood -- if there was a word for Mace’s praise of Obi-Wan being almost insulting -- but then again, Mace didn’t intend it --

“I see. To ask you a quick question, Knight Skywalker -- did you notice any suspicious activity in regards to the Chancellor prior to his kidnapping?”

“Obi-Wan and I were off Coruscant most of the time,” Anakin said, “So I can’t say.”

“I see. I merely have a suspicion that the attack on 500 Republica was...far too well-timed. It’s unlikely that either the Chancellor or one of those in his inner circle could have orchestrated it, but...”

“Master Windu,” Anakin said, softly, “The Chancellor’s not a bad man...” But even now, remembering the  _Invisible Hand_ , how he was all but goading Obi-Wan to execute Dooku, even seeing Obi-Wan’s eyes grow cold...

He shivered, fighting the urge to turn away.

Mace Windu, of course, seemed to see straight through him. “Is there something you wish to tell me, young Skywalker?”

“No.” Anakin shook his head. “Nothing at all.”

“Very well then.”

Anakin was almost relieved when he had to go. He almost preferred it when Master Windu was being almost passive-aggressively hostile to him; at least then, he knew where he stood. Master Windu was far from a bad man, Anakin knew that, but even so, he couldn’t get rid of the almost uncomfortable feeling he had -- not only in regards to Obi-Wan, but to Mace.

Could he trust anyone anymore?

 

***

It was almost shelter to see Satine again. Even now, in the shadows, exchanging frantic embraces and kisses, Obi-Wan doubted he could be more happy to see her. It was then, as she drew away, that she ran a hand gently over his face, over the scar on his eye that Dooku had given him as a bit of a farewell present, of sorts. “Obi-Wan...your eye -- ’’

“I’m quite all right,” Obi-Wan said, forcing a slight smile. Even thinking of Dooku was uncomfortable; he hadn’t wanted to be the vigilante Jedi back on  _Invisible Hand_  -- even now, he wondered if he even had the right -- but he doubted there was any other choice. “Just...just a bit of a scuffle.”

“A bit?” Satine arched an eyebrow. “As usual, Master Kenobi, you seem to be the master of understatement.”  
  
A chuckle. Then Obi-Wan faltered. “Are you all right, Satine?”  
  
“I am. It’s only...” Even now, as Satine told him the news, Obi-Wan didn’t know what to feel. On the one hand, the two of them were going to have a child -- and yet on the other hand, what father would he be? And what would it mean for his career in the Order?

“What are we going to do, Obi-Wan?”

“We’re not going to worry. Not tonight. We’ve had enough worrying for a lifetime.”  
  
“Sometimes it’s good to worry. I can’t say many good things happen to those who don’t worry at all.”

***

Even later, though, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure. It was another one of those visions again, with the girl Padme, and the eyes of the Sith Lord Darth Sidious, and so much more -- he saw a girl, a girl who almost looked like Satine but with ginger hair, standing outside the Jedi Temple. Even as the two of them looked out into the cityscape of Coruscant, at the gleaming spires of the Jedi Temple, the girl spoke. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It’s quite all right,” he said. “A Jedi’s life is sacrifice.”

“Not any of your losses in the present. Merely that which is to come.”

Satine had tried to console him in the way only she could, of course. Saying that it was illogical, and reminding him that the future was always in motion. Yet even so...

Obi-Wan sighed, before drawing up the covers and trying vainly to get back to sleep. 


	32. Chapter Thirty One: Partings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anakin goes off to face Grievous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Hope this chapter doesn't come off too rushed.

_The Jedi Council knows what it’s doing._

But even after the meeting, Obi-Wan doubted it. The Council had much wisdom, yes, but for the first time, he was wondering if they were wrong. Perhaps they saw him as the best fit in order to spy on Palpatine, and yet at the same time...

Even now, Obi-Wan could not help but worry for Anakin’s safety in regards to Grievous. Anakin was capable, yes, more than capable. And yet at the same time, Grievous had slain some of their finest Jedi. Who said that Anakin stood a chance?

_Don’t be ridiculous. He’s more than capable._

“Obi-Wan, are you all right?” Even now, Anakin’s voice made him wonder if he was making his emotions that obvious now.

“A bit worried about you. Nothing more.”

“Honestly, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, trying to crack a grin -- feeble as it was. “Look at Geonosis -- I survived that one, didn’t I?”

“You did. I guess it’s just that...well...” Obi-Wan forced a chuckle. “Call it me having an instance of overprotective mentor mode, one last time.”

Anakin laughed as well. “You excel at that, really. Goodbye, Master. May the Force be with you.”

“Anakin, wait!”

Obi-Wan wanted to say so much, really, before Anakin went off to face Grievous -- how proud he was of him, perhaps, how he had surpassed all expectations, to be careful out there on Utapau and mind his training. He wanted to say so much, but even now, words seemed to be failing him, combined instead with worry that seemed to have seized him all the way to his spine. Instead, he said, “Anakin?”  
  
“Yes?” Anakin’s voice was soft, almost inaudible, even slightly afraid. Even now, he sounded almost like a vulnerable little boy instead of the Jedi Knight that Obi-Wan had trained.

“Good luck.”

Even now, it sounded so anticlimactic, so weak, that somehow Obi-Wan wished that he could say more. But he doubted that there was any more he could say. He sighed, before turning around to get home to Satine. After all, Force knows he needed it. 


	33. Chapter Thirty Two: Revelations.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Obi-Wan has nightmares, as well as getting his first assignment to spy on Palpatine. It doesn't go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Hope this chapter doesn't come off as too rushed, really.

_The visions refused to end. And this, somehow, was one of the worst of them. In the vision, he saw Anakin being cut down by the blades of Grievous, saw Satine, dying and in pain, saw the Jedi Temple being set ablaze. In the vision, he saw beings attacking from the Unknown Regions, beings that could not be felt in the Force. And worst of all, he saw those eyes, those yellow, almost krayt dragon-like eyes, staring out at him, beckoning to him..._

Obi-Wan was almost relieved to have woken up where he wanted to -- in Satine’s apartment,  _their_  apartment, where at the very least he was somewhat safe. No, that was an illusion. He wasn’t safe, they weren’t safe. Not as long as these visions were plaguing him, threatening doom for them and their unborn children. Even the thought...even the thought was too much to bear. He could not help but express some degree of chagrin, somehow, that he had ended up on Satine’s couch -- the great Negotiator, falling asleep like that -- and yet at the same time...

Satine entered now, quite clearly exhausted, but giving him a quick smile when she came to meet him. After exchanging embraces and quick kisses, Obi-Wan spoke. “Are you all right?”

“I am. Quite a long meeting.” Satine gave him a wan smile; even now, she didn’t look well. “And you?”

“Quite all right. Slightly low on sleep.”

Satine furrowed her brow. “Is it about the dreams, I wonder?”

“Well...yes. When I dream, I see those eyes. The best way to describe them...they’re like krayt dragon eyes. All-knowing, overseeing everything. And...” Obi-Wan broke off, almost unable to describe the worst of the dreams involving those eyes. Eyes that appeared in those he loved dearly, such as Anakin and Mace -- Mace especially, standing over someone he could only presume was Darth Sidious, angry, triumphant yet angry, and those eyes appeared. And Mace spoke one word, almost not in his voice, but in the voice of the Dark Side itself.

“ _Mine_.”

Even picturing it, Obi-Wan rubbed his brow, wearily. “I merely worry for the Jedi Order. Do you remember what you said a long while ago, about how the Jedi shouldn’t have let themselves be dragged into the war in such a way?”

She merely nodded.

“I’m worried that they will...fall.”

“The sooner the Clone Wars end, the better,” Satine said, softly, running a hand over his face. “They’ve already taken too many good men and women, in mind and body. I doubt we can lose any more.”

“Satine, I have been wondering...what led you to become a pacifist in the first place? Not condemning you -- ’’

“I know that,” Satine said, smiling if slightly. Then she grew more serious. “It was studying Mandalore’s history that I decided to take it up. Seeing the truth of our actions in the past, causing wars in the name of glory -- I saw it and I essentially said no more.”

“I can imagine all too well. I can’t imagine anyone being pro-war.”

“No one is,” Satine said, “For their part.” Another smile, if faint, crossed her lips. “And you should get some sleep.”

Even now, sleeping soundly beside her, beside Satine, Obi-Wan felt an almost absurd sense of peace cross him. At least for now.

***

It was later that Obi-Wan was woken from sleep by the ringing of his comlink. Getting up quickly, Obi-Wan stumbled to pick up his comlink. “Yes, Master Windu?”

“Knight Skywalker has just engaged General Grievous. Go to the Chancellor, gauge his reactions. There’s no time to waste.”

“I understand, Master Windu.”  
  
Even now, saying a reluctant goodbye (for now) to Satine, Obi-Wan was thankful that he didn’t have to change too quickly. If anything, he had all but fallen asleep in his Jedi robes, much to his embarrassment. He smoothed them quickly before getting on the shuttle to Palpatine’s office, before telling the Chancellor about what he had heard.

He had half-expected the Chancellor to express some measure of concern for Palpatine’s well-being, but even so, the Chancellor didn’t seem to express much. If anything, Palpatine had expressed some momentary concern for Anakin’s safety, before continuing to engage him in what some would call small talk -- talk about the Republic, about his discontent with it, about...Satine?

“How did you know?”  
  
“I have my ways. I was wondering, Obi-Wan,” Palpatine said, in such a casual tone, almost as if he was discussing the weather, “if perhaps -- perhaps you would find alternative ways to reform the Republic. Ways much like those my...apprentice suggested.”

“Apprentice?”  
  
“Yes.” Even now, the Chancellor’s smile seemed to take on an edge far more sinister, even evil. “Think of it, Obi-Wan. Simply think of it.”

The Force was practically shrieking warnings.

“No.” Even now, Obi-Wan felt, almost, as if he was falling steadily through space. As if the galaxy as he knew it was dying all around him. “You -- a Sith Lord -- but why?”

“The Republic was corrupt. It needed to change.” A beat. “Aren’t you tired of the Republic’s corruption -- the squabbling, greedy Senators who seem to have no regard for the people, only their own desires? Think, Obi-Wan. Come back when you have a solid answer. I will be waiting.”

That did it.

Obi-Wan didn’t wait for Palpatine -- no, Sidious’ -- next response. He ran. And ran forever. Until, finally, he found his way back to Mace Windu. The Jedi Master was already looking over a hologram of Anakin -- there was a moment of relief in Obi-Wan to know that his former Padawan was all right, and yet at the same time --

“Master Windu,” Anakin said, “I just managed to destroy General Grievous. I’m heading back to Coruscant as soon as I can.” A wry smile. “Although I think Cody has some damage control to do regarding the droids, but I will be back soon.”

“Good. May the Force be with you, young Skywalker.”

A bit of a hint of shock on Anakin’s face, almost as if the younger Jedi couldn’t believe that Master Windu, of all people, was paying him a compliment -- of sorts. Then, “And with you, Master Windu. Skywalker out.”

Mace then turned to look at Obi-Wan. “What is it?”

“It’s Chancellor Palpatine. I did the investigations -- Chancellor Palpatine is a Sith Lord.”

“A Sith Lord?  _The_ Sith Lord?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, softly, “The very one that we’ve been looking for.”

For a moment, he could have sworn that he saw a flash of vulnerability in Mace Windu’s eyes. And then, “Then we have no time to waste.”

And even now, Obi-Wan Kenobi could not disagree.


	34. Chapter Thirty Three: Freefall In The Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Obi-Wan goes with Mace to confront Palpatine. It ends badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Can't really say much except...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Even now, entering the Chancellor’s office shouldn’t have felt almost like entering the krayt dragon’s den, and yet at the same time it was. Something in Obi-Wan was already pulling at him, something was already niggling and nibbling at the corners of his consciousness. And even now, he could still remember the words of the mysterious woman in his visions -- the visions that had to do with Satine and Anakin and so many others. The woman who spoke of the loss that was yet to come.

Even now, something in Obi-Wan told him that the loss might be there, in this place, in the Chancellor’s office. Something in him, that familiar I-have-a-bad-feeling-about-this feeling, was already prickling almost crazily, and he hated it.

Still, he and Mace pressed on. They had a job to do, after all.

Sidious seemed to be more than ready for them. At the very least, there were no pretenses, merely Mace Windu telling him in no uncertain terms that yes, he was under arrest, and perhaps a bit of bluster from Sidious, but in the end, it didn’t matter, because the duel was already breaking out. It was something along the lines of the duel with the Zabrak and Padme on Mandalore, only instead of two Jedi on two Sith (or at least two Dark Jedi), it was more of two Jedi on one Sith. And Sidious continued to evade them quite admirably, considering the circumstances. Even now, after Sidious’ latest attack, using the Force to slam Obi-Wan into a wall, Obi-Wan could not help but at least be somewhat impressed. If anything, Sidious had some degree of determination and ingenuity. It at least explained how he managed to fool the Republic and Jedi for so long -- although most of it, he could imagine, was simple blindness.

Eventually, however, even Sidious could not hold on forever, and Mace and Obi-Wan eventually cornered him against a window. Even now, watching him, helpless, begging for leniency, begging for mercy, begging for Obi-Wan to see reason (“The Jedi are taking over!”), Obi-Wan knew that he was lying. Of course he was. Sidious always lied. And yet even now, seeing him helpless like that -- he almost could not help but wonder who they would be to strike him down in such a way.

Mace, of course, seemed to disagree with that thought. “Save your twisted words, _my lord._ The oppression of the Sith will never return. You have lost.”

Even now, seeing the sight of Mace standing over Sidious in such a manner, lightsaber humming almost menacingly, a look of the utmost hatred in his eyes, Obi-Wan could not help but feel almost frightened, in a sense. Mace had been undergoing a slow breakdown throughout the Clone Wars, that was plain to see. After Depa Billaba’s fall, for example. And this -- it was almost as if every little thing about the Clone Wars was now adding up to slowly kill him.

And the worst part was that, standing there, Obi-Wan was almost inclined to agree. And yet at the same time, the old Jedi lessons were coursing back in. Not to mention memories of Satine, of Anakin, of the dreams that had been plaguing him ever since _Invisible Hand_ \-- the images of Anakin dueling someone else with a blue lightsaber, the images of Anakin being killed by someone with a red lightsaber --

Even now, that was the last thing that Obi-Wan wanted. If anything, he had always wanted the best for Anakin. And now...now everything was crumbling around him. The Republic as he knew it. Anakin. Satine -- he could still see the images of her confronting someone dressed in black, and dying for her efforts in order to keep the Republic safe. The woman who abhorred violence, never so much as carrying weapons save for things such as droid deactivators --

“Mace, please,” he said, softly, “Stand down. At least give him a fair trial.”

“He has control of the Senate and the courts, Obi-Wan.” Even now, Mace’s voice was quiet, almost sad. “It’s too dangerous for him to be left alive.”

“It’s not the Jedi way!”

“If you and Anakin could have taken Dooku alive on _Invisible Hand_ , would you?”

Even now, Obi-Wan felt, almost, as if an airlock had opened inside his stomach. “Mace,” he said, “We made a mistake. We should have given him a chance. At the very least, don’t sink to his level. Please, Mace.”

For a moment, he could have sworn he saw a flicker of sadness in Mace Windu’s eyes. And then...

“I’m sorry, Obi-Wan. But I don’t think I have a choice.”

“Then I don’t think you can blame me for trying to stop you.”

“No.”

Even now, dueling Mace was the last thing that Obi-Wan ever wanted. In old times, amongst people such as the Echani, battle was said to be a form of expression. And so it was here. Things Obi-Wan could not express aloud for fear of punishment were now put plainly on display, things such as _I need him to save Satine and Anakin_ , amongst other things, managing to come plainly through every strike, everything he used to defend himself --

And finally, he had Mace cornered against the shattered window, lightsaber at his throat. “Mace, please,” Obi-Wan said, his voice cracking, “Surrender and stop this. I don’t want it to come to this.” He never wanted it to come to this. He and Master Windu on opposite sides. “We are on the same side, aren’t we?”

Mace paused, almost as if considering something. Then his eyes narrowed. “No, Obi-Wan. Not anymore.”

It was then that Obi-Wan noticed Sidious rising, no longer the helpless, pleading old man that he had made himself out to be, but very much all right. Very much intact. Obi-Wan stood over Mace, lightsaber pointed in Sidious’ direction. “Sidious, please don’t -- ’’

Too late.

Before Obi-Wan could even so much as blink, Sidious had unleashed a barrel of Force Lightning so powerful as to blast Mace from the window. Even watching Mace fall, watching his old friend fall, Obi-Wan could only watch in horror, could only listen in horror to the sound of Sidious _laughing_ \--

He had done this.

He had contributed to Mace Windu’s death.

He had effectively murdered him.

What had he done?


	35. Chapter Thirty Four: The Bridge To Acheron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Obi-Wan falls to the Dark Side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Hoping that this doesn't come off as rushed or anything. Also, yes, I'll admit I included a few Doctor Who references in this chapter. One's from the TV Movie with Paul McGann, when the Doctor is confronting the Master. I just thought it was a great quote. :3

If Obi-Wan had, long ago, had a vision that he would be standing near the ledge at 500 Republica, looking down at the street where one of his closest friends on the Council had plummeted to his death, if only because of something he had done, he never would have believed it. And yet here he was, dizziness overtaking him as if he was about to fall from the window itself. He backed away from the ledge, collapsed in a close chair, placing a palm wearily over his forehead rubbing it.  _I’m sorry, Mace. I’m so sorry._ And yet even now, murmuring the words again and again to himself barely did justice to what he had done.

“You are fulfilling your destiny.” If Sidious ever meant for any of the words he said right now to be soothing, he failed miserably.

“Destiny? Tell me, Chancellor -- did my destiny include, anywhere, having to aid and abet the murder of a fellow  _Council member_?”

“The Jedi were traitors. You know this.”

“From your point of view.”

Sidious merely looked at him, looked at him with that horrible, Dark Side ravaged face, with eyes that so closely resembled a krayt dragon’s.

“There could have been another way.” Even now, speaking was difficult; it felt like rage and anger and guilt seemed to bubble up and out of him uncontrollably. “But no -- you want dominion over the living, all of you Sith, you want dominion over life itself but all you do is  _kill_!”

“You were the one who tried to stop Master Windu, Master Kenobi. I merely finished the job, as it were.”

“I was trying to avert a crisis -- ’’

“But you wouldn’t have been there in the first place if it wasn’t for Duchess Satine, would you? Or your Padawan? Or the safety of the Republic itself? This encounter merely stripped away the illusion and brought you truth. The Jedi Order as it is now cannot be allowed to continue.”

“There had to have been another way.”

“Indeed,” Sidious said, “So you say.” A beat. “I know now why they call you the Negotiator.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

Silence.

“What do we do now?”

“Master Windu may be dead,” Sidious said, words that caused an involuntary shiver of guilt down Obi-Wan’s spine, “But the Jedi will not rest until I am dead.”

“I came to avoid bloodshed, not betray my friends.”

“Indeed? The Duchess of Mandalore seems to have rubbed off on you, has she?”

Silence.

“What is it to you, Chancellor?”

“Merely an observation,” the Chancellor said. “You know what you saw, Obi-Wan Kenobi. The question is now what you wish to do.” A beat. “Not the Council. Of course they would have attempted to kill me where Master Windu failed. It is their nature.”

“They don’t -- ’’

And yet even now, the image of Mace’s face clouded with rage and vengeance filled Obi-Wan’s mind. And in spite of himself, he shuddered and closed his eyes.

Even now, Obi-Wan weighed the odds in his mind -- his loyalty to the Order, everything he had ever known, against what was ultimately right. For the Jedi Order, for Satine, for Anakin, for so many others. And then, slowly, he nodded.

“All right,” he said, “I will do what I must.”

“Good. Kneel before me, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan did so, swallowing his bile, trying to repeat  _It’s all for the best, all for the best_ inside his mind. And yet at the same time, it didn’t help. He could already picture Qui-Gon’s reaction, seeing his Padawan kneeling before the Dark Lord of the Sith in such a way, and quietly, he prayed to Qui-Gon to forgive him.

But then again, who knew what Qui-Gon Jinn would have said? Perhaps he would have seen it as Obi-Wan’s destiny, of surrendering to the ultimate will of the Living Force. Obi-Wan had seen the Jedi Order beginning to come apart at the seams, but he had been too blind to truly  _see_.

“Will you swear your life forevermore to the Order of the Sith Lords?”

“Yes.”

“Good, good.” The sound of Darth Sidious was almost like the purring of a contented rancor. “The Force is strong with you. A powerful Sith,” he said, reminding Obi-Wan, almost, of a nightmarish reflection of Master Yoda, “You will become. From this moment henceforth, you shall be known as Darth...”  
  
A pause in the Force, a question. And then...

“Acheron.”

It was more than a declaration from the Dark Lord of the Sith. It was a pair of syllables that meant  _him_.

“Thank you, my master.”  _Forgive me, my masters, for what I am about to do..._

“Rise.”

Obi-Wan did so.

“You must recognize now that every single Jedi, including your apprentice Anakin Skywalker and your friend Master Yoda, is now an enemy of the Republic.”

“I understand.”  _More than anything I do._

“Good, good. Your first mission is to go to the Jedi Temple and wipe out every Jedi occupying it. That way, you will eliminate a key threat to the Republic and everything it stands for. After that, you must go to the Mustafar system and wipe out Viceroy Gunray.”

“What of the other Jedi?”

“Leave them to me.” Acheron could have sworn that he saw a horrible smirk underneath Sidious’ hood, almost the sort that would look more flattering on a maalras. “Now go, Acheron. Bring peace to the galaxy, as you were meant to.”

Acheron left now, heading out into the rain.

He could only pray that his masters would forgive him for what he was about to do. But then again, how could he, how could he even begin, when he wasn’t certain if he could forgive himself? 


	36. Chapter Thirty Five: It's Only Just Begun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Acheron attacks the Temple, and Bail Organa decides to get the hell out of dodge just so he can actually do something about the invasion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be.
> 
> Author's Notes: Included a bit of a reference to the whole "Deception" arc in The Clone Wars -- another thing that, on further thought, really bugs me. Because true, Obi-Wan's lied (in a sense) in the Original Trilogy, but it's not the Original Trilogy yet, and you would think, at least from one standpoint, that Obi-Wan would be a little more upset about having to deceive Anakin. I mean, look at his reaction in Revenge of the Sith when he has to go after Anakin, not to mention...well, a lot of what he goes through in Revenge of the Sith in regards to Anakin. Because Anakin's not just his Padawan; he's like a brother to Obi-Wan, and I don't think Obi-Wan would be able to throw that away that easily. I haven't really gotten to "Crisis on Naboo" yet (so I'll have to see how it all pans out in the end), but from what I saw in "Deception/Friends and Enemies/The Box" -- yeah, I don't think it was one of the Clone Wars' finest hours, really. I just hope they don't repeat that in Season Five.
> 
> But anyway, enough rambling/ranting (and I do apologize if I inadvertently offended anyone; it just bugged me) -- I hope you enjoy this chapter at any rate!

The siege on the Jedi Temple was one of the most difficult things – no,  _the_ most difficult thing – that Obi-Wan had ever done. He had had to do many questionable things during the Clone Wars, such as faking his death to go underground as a spy – something that Anakin and Satine had been particularly angry at him for. But this...this was even worse.

Dueling the Masters was one thing. They had experience for this, and though Acheron hated having to fight some of his dearest friends, he could at least take solace in the fact that they were at least preparing for such things.

But then there were the younglings. And even now, striding into the chamber where the younglings hid, he could see the fear and desperate hope in their eyes -- that maybe the brave General Kenobi could be able to save them.

“Master Kenobi,” one of them said, “There’s too many of them. What are we going to do?”

Silence. And then...

“I’m sorry.”

And hand shaking as he did so, Darth Acheron -- formerly Obi-Wan Kenobi -- ignited his lightsaber.

***

Bail Organa had seen many things over the course of the war. But even now, looking out over the ruins of the Jedi Temple, he could not help but utter a curse that would make a Corellian dockhand blush. Even now, telling one of his guards to stay on the  _Tantive IV_ , to not turn it around (brushing off their questions as to why they weren’t just getting away from here as it being urgent business), Bail headed towards the building, which, he found, much to his chagrin, was guarded by clones.

Even now, Bail wished that he had had time to actually get in the speeder before starting the engines, but it wasn’t like he had much of a choice. If anything, with the clone troopers shooting at him, it was lucky that he still had a choice. Below, the boy was still cutting down clone troopers left and right, and Bail was almost tempted to leap off the speeder and help him, but the boy quickly gestured towards him, as if telling him to go, before finally, a blaster bolt managed to fell him.

It was a fortunate thing, Bail mused darkly as he managed to pull himself into the speeder and right himself moments later, that he hadn’t crashed into the building nearby. Otherwise, things would have been far worse than one would have expected. The best he could do now was make his way out of system and make sure that everyone else was all right. But even so, he had a feeling that it wouldn’t be easy.

He supposed he should thank the boy for saving him. If anything, the boy had died to save him. Even now, he could not help but wonder, if he could have saved him, perhaps --

But there was no time. He had to get off Coruscant.

It was later in space that he got the transmission from Master Yoda. The news -- the Jedi Master’s clone troopers had turned on him on Kashyyyk. It was only through quick thinking (or so Bail interpreted it) that the Jedi Master had managed to escape. If this was a galaxy wide thing --

There was no time to waste. He had to get to Kashyyyk. And that was a fact. 


	37. Chapter Thirty Six: Narrow Escapes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anakin escapes from his own troops firing at him (little knowing that his day is about to go downhill from there) and Padme returns to Coruscant to try and stop Sidious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: So it's definitely good to get Padme back in the picture again. Also, I think this is one of the hardest chapters I ever wrote.

It wasn’t what one would have called an easy battle with Grievous, but even so, it was only lucky that Anakin had gotten out alive. Even emerging, grimy but victorious, along with the mount Boga by his side, he turned to look at Cody. “Are you all right?”

“Yep. You?”

“All right.” Anakin grinned, if wearily. “I take it you still left some droids over for me then?”

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to deprive you of your fun, boss.”  
  
Anakin laughed, almost in spite of himself -- even now, he was already feeling better, if slightly. Then he lightly patted Boga’s neck, mounting her -- he couldn’t say that he liked animal mounts that much (something that Obi-Wan liked to tease him about to no end -- even now, he wished Obi-Wan the best of luck. If something happened to him -- but then again, it was Coruscant. What could possibly happen? It didn’t stop that constant, niggling, simple  _bad feeling about this_  in the back of his head, though...), but there was something about Boga that was almost...right for him.

“Oh, and by the way...” Cody held out the lightsaber Anakin had dropped while chasing Grievous. Even now, if there was one of many things to be learned from this, it was to hold onto one’s lightsaber at all times -- and that, when all else failed, use a blaster. He hadn’t expected a blaster to come in handy whilst facing Grievous, but he only assumed that he knew now.

“Thanks.” Anakin chuckled. “I’m just glad Obi-Wan isn’t here; I never would have heard the end of it.”

Cody laughed. Then his comlink began to beep. “I’ll be a bit held up, General. See you on the upper level.”

“See you.” And Anakin and Boga headed up towards the upper level to join the rest of the troops.

It was even now, in the middle of the battle with the droids in the upper level that he heard the order. “Fire on him.”

Even now, as Anakin steered Boga to avoid the blaster shots coming her way -- it wasn’t enough.

Anakin could already feel himself falling. And falling. And falling forever. He didn’t know how long it was until he finally hit the water. But once he did, he swam. And swam forever.

He was almost tempted to gasp for breath once he managed to emerge safely away from blaster fire, only to realize that there were still clone troopers up there, murmuring something about “Check the water. See if he’s dead.”

He would have to play dead. At least for now.

He was almost relieved when the sounds of chatter died down, replaced by orders to move the men onto the nearest ship. Even now, though, he shuddered to think of what would happen next. Somehow, he didn’t want to know.

Even now, beside him, Boga’s body was drifting. Quiet, still, unmoving. It was seeing the blaster wounds on her that Anakin realized that she had died to save him. Even now, gently running a hand over her side, Anakin knew he had to move. Had to get back to Coruscant. But he couldn’t leave her like this, could he?

He took Boga’s body and began to swim, at least as best he could. Dodging possibly being seen, for one thing. He could only hope the Force was on his side. Because even now, he wasn’t sure.

***

Across the galaxy, planet to planet, the order was given. Across the galaxy, planet to planet, Jedi fell. Shot down by clone troopers, not out of spite, but out of duty. Across the galaxy, planet to planet, Sidious’ plan began to reach its finale.

And far away, on Tatooine, Padme Naberrie, former Sith apprentice, continued to dispense justice in her small ways. Even now, though, she could hear something. Feel something in the Force, and something in her froze.

Sidious’ plan was reaching completion.

He was going to rule the galaxy -- not through peace, but through violence. Through war. Through slaughtering of innocents. If she could get to Coruscant and find a way to stop him --

It was even now at the hangar that one of the guards stopped her. “Sorry, ma’am,” he said, “But I’m afraid this hangar is restricted. I’ll need to see your identification.”

Putting the weight of the Force into her voice, Padme said, “You don’t need to see my identification.”

“I don’t need to see your identification.”

“You will forget you ever saw me.”

“I will forget I ever saw you.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, ma’am.” And the guard stepped aside.

Inside, there were plenty of ships. Ships that could get her to Coruscant in time. Padme, in the end, chose the blue freighter. It seemed to be the one that would best get her to Coruscant in time. Even now, she already had the feeling that there would be plenty more problems to come. Nothing she couldn’t deal with, however. She was, after all, a Sith, and no power in the galaxy or otherwise would be able to stop her.

She would need to get to Coruscant by a more discreet route though.

One emergence from hyperspace and subsequent landing on Coruscant later, Padme found that the more discreet route was almost out of the question, what with clone troopers everywhere. If anything, getting to her destination would be far from easy.

“Hold it right there. I’m afraid you can’t go to the Jedi Temple. It’s on lockdown.”

“Indeed?” Padme tried to keep her voice casual. “What happened?”

“Jedi Rebellion. We had to deal with it.”

Something in Padme was suddenly very hollow, but it hardly fazed her. “Is there any chance I could go to the Jedi Temple? Unfinished business, you see.”

“I’m very sorry, ma’am, but our orders from Lord Sidious were clear. No one is to be admitted.”

One fight later, Padme looked regretfully down at the clone trooper. It was a pity that she had to kill him, really. If anything, he seemed to be doing his --

Suddenly, she felt it. Clear as day. Life going out. Screams. A lightsaber, cleaving through everyone there. Blasters.

“No...”

Padme ran. And she ran forever. Cutting down troopers in her path who would try to stop her. She ran towards the Jedi Temple, hoping at the very least to stop all of this before it got any worse.

Because now -- now no power in the galaxy would be able to stop her. 


	38. Chapter Thirty Seven: Like Fire Across The Galaxy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anakin's day continues to suck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This was actually one of my favorite chapters to write, if only because of the emotional content. Let's say I'm a bit of a sucker for that -- the quiet, reflective scenes, etc. And I think I relatively got Anakin, for what it's worth.

It was even now, swimming through the caves in Utapau, trying vainly to avoid the clone troopers’ sights that Anakin forced himself to shove away his feelings. If anything, there wasn’t any time to dwell when they were in danger. And yet at the same time, there was something in him that could not help but wonder...why? Simply why?

But he didn’t have any time. Even now, dodging drones, as well as some of Utapau sea creatures intent on having him for their next meal (or whatever they wanted. Or wanting some of the dead lizard that he was carrying), listening to the first streams of muffled clone conversation from underneath the surface...

It was later, drenched, exhausted, relieved and yet still tense with anxiety, ready to strike if necessary, that he found himself in the hangar, where he had dueled Grievous. The General’s body was still there -- Anakin could only assume that not even the vultures of Utapau wanted him.

It was only now that he noticed Grievous’ ship, right there. He frowned -- if he could improvise a bit, pilot the ship off this blasted planet and get back to Coruscant before it was too late --

To some, it would be laughable. But to Anakin Skywalker, laughable was nothing more than a dare, and “impossible” was a challenge.

Even now, trusting in the Force and his instincts to guide him, he lifted off Utupau and into the sky. Once he was safely away from Utupau, he sighed, ran his head wearily over his brow, letting his emotions crash down on him.  _Shot at by my own friends..._  Over the course of the war, Cody and the others hadn’t just been clones to him. They had been his comrades, almost his brothers. He had given them names -- at the very least, it had been his idea to give them names. Odd, some would say, but from the time he was a small boy, Anakin had been skilled in terms of making friends in odd places. Or at least in places some would see as odd. Not the Jedi, per se. Merely outsiders.

Even now, punching in the emergency code and speaking into the transmitter, Anakin tried not to let his voice shake. And yet seeing Bail Organa’s hologram materialize...muscles that he didn’t realize had tensed up relaxed the moment he saw the Senator. Senator Organa...one of the few Senators who Anakin respected. Brave. Full of integrity. Friendly. And loyal to Satine and the Republic was a good bonus. If anyone could help him and any other surviving Jedi out there, it would be Bail.

“It’s good to see you, Senator,” Anakin said, his voice still shaking even so. “Are there any other Jedi out there?”

“Master Yoda is on Kashyyyk. I just rescued him. His own clones fired on him.”

“What?”

Even now, Anakin felt like an airlock had opened beneath his feet and he was being sucked out into space, even though he was inside a starfighter he had stolen from the enemy and safe, at least for now.

“Master Yoda’s clones shot on him.” Bail’s voice was quiet. “And this isn’t an isolated incident; it’s been happening all over the galaxy.”

“I already escaped from it on Utupau,” Anakin said. “I don’t even understand it -- one moment we were fighting side by side and the next...” He sighed. “Although I do wonder why Cody decided to give me back my lightsaber before he decided to kill me. Probably wanted to even the odds.”

“We’re still uncertain as to the origin and circumstances of them turning on the Jedi,” Senator Organa said. “We’re on Kashyyyk. Meet us there. And be careful.”

“I will, Senator. You too. Skywalker out.”

Even now, after the transmission ended, Anakin sat back, suddenly feeling wearier than he had ever felt before. The clones had turned on them. With luck, some Jedi may have escaped, but others...they could possibly be dead. He only prayed it was the former -- too many had already died in this horrible war. Too many of his friends. If he lost more...if Serra Keto or Ahsoka Tano or  _Obi-Wan_  had died --

Silently, Anakin sat in the cockpit of General Grievous’ ship, feeling the first hints of tears beginning to rush in. 


	39. Chapter Thirty Eight: Disengage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which both Anakin and Acheron's days continue to suck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: I'll admit that I added in that bit where Anakin yells at Master Yoda because...well, one he's still in shock, and two, I'll admit, Yoda's bit in the Revenge of the Sith novelization about Obi-Wan needing to "control himself" (because I mostly got here via the novelizations. :) really bugged me -- I mean, honestly, Obi-Wan thinks that Anakin's dead, not to mention the whole It's All Our Fault moment he's having regarding the slaughtered Jedi -- which isn't really true (I mean, it was Sidious' fault, in the end. He manipulated all of it), but even so...it's sort of like, Yoda, give him a moment, for pity's sake! Plus, I just thought it was in character for Anakin to do. Especially considering he's more...emotional than Obi-Wan, really. At least outwardly.

It was even now, once they were far away from the AT-STs that they had time to talk. To bring up the bare minimum of details. About how Anakin had been ambushed by his own troops on Utapau but managed to escape in time -- if only for Boga’s help, which helped him explain why he was carrying her body with her.

“I couldn’t leave her. I mean...” Anakin swallowed. “Master Yoda, can I at least say a few words for her? I mean...she died saving my life.”

Yoda seemed skeptical. Almost disbelieving. And then...

“Very well. But hurry -- careful timing we will need.”

“I know.”

They burned Boga’s body that night. Even now, sitting there, saying a few words over it, Anakin was faintly aware of two of the Wookiees nearby (though he wasn’t sure of their names) making mournful growls and near-whines. Almost as if in anxiety. Even later, when they had to leave, Anakin was almost struck by how close Yoda seemed to them. The friendship that they shared.

And then they had to go. Saying their goodbyes to the Wookiees, hoping the Force would be with them...indeed, Anakin could only hope that was true, if only because the Force did not seem to be on their side today.

It was back on the  _Tantive IV_ that Anakin had time to collect himself. But at the same time, he couldn’t. Even now, he tried to focus his mind on the little details – Bail Organa’s robe, the texture of the table – in order to keep himself composed, but at the same time, he couldn’t. How could he, when the galaxy as he had known it had basically ended?

What had happened on Utupau...it hadn’t been an isolated incident. If anything, it was just the beginning of the slaughter – the slaughter of so many Jedi, everywhere. Even checking the list of the missing and the dead that Master Yoda and Senator Organa had managed to draft up didn’t make things any easier. Serra Keto was listed as missing. Quinlan Vos was dead. Aayla Secura was dead. Even now, remembering the list, it took all of Anakin’s strength to not shake.

“We took them from their  _homes_.” Even now, it didn’t sound like himself speaking – if anything, it sounded more like the man that Utupau had ultimately made him. “We promised their families that we’d – ’’

“Control yourself, you must,” Master Yoda warned. “Still a Jedi you are!”

“Yes.” Anakin snorted. “Of course. ‘Control yourself, young Skywalker. Control yourself you must, and completely and utterly forget that slaughtered in cold blood your friends were for no discernible reason by their own  _troops_!’ Honestly, Master Yoda, how can you even say that? Do you care that little for your own – ’’

“Mistaken you are.”

If anything, looking at Master Yoda, Anakin doubted he could feel any worse than he did now. If anything...

“Master Yoda, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s just...” It took all of Anakin’s strength to hold back a sob. “They’re dead. They’re all dead.”

“Some of them, dead they may not be.” Even now, the gentleness in Master Yoda’s voice was something Anakin was almost unaccustomed to. If anything, it was unnerving. Master Yoda was supposed to be inscrutable and invulnerable, almost something not of this galaxy, almost omniscient – seeing this in him...it was new. Even now, Anakin wasn’t sure if he liked it.

“Maybe.” Even now, thinking about it, perhaps some of them had managed to escape in time. At the very least, something in Anakin still held onto this thought – it was the only way he could keep from going crazy. And yet...

“If we get to the Jedi Temple,” he said, “Maybe we can warn anyone still out there. I mean...” He sighed. “The recall beacon – you remember the recall beacon, right? How it calls the rest of the Jedi home? If we manage to switch it off perhaps we can – ’’

“Perhaps.” Even now, Yoda seemed contemplative. “If change the recall beacon we do, a chance we may create.”

***

It was long after he had filed his report to Lord Sidious that Darth Acheron patched in Satine Kryze. Even now, even speaking with her was shelter -- shelter that he most likely didn't deserve after what he'd done. Shelter he knew he didn't deserve, after how he had slaughtered the younglings in such a manner. The way they had looked up at him, believing that Master Kenobi was here to save them, when in fact, he was the one leading the raid. "Master Kenobi," one had said, "There are too many of them. What are we going to do?"

And he had drawn his lightsaber.

He hadn't wanted to do it. If anything, it was the last thing he ever wanted. The Jedi Temple was his home. But he had done his duty to the Republic, nothing more.

He only wished the rest of himself could so readily accept that lie.

"Obi-Wan," Satine said, long after they had managed to go over the finer points of what just happened -- he didn't tell her about Sidious, or having to slaughter the younglings as well as the older Jedi. He couldn't afford to tell her; Satine, ever the believer in the peaceful solution, would never understand -- "Be careful. I can't afford to lose you. We can't."

Even now, Acheron's heart ached at the mention of their unborn child. "I know, Satine. And I will return."

 _And take you someplace safe,_ he thought. _Someplace only we know._ He had had enough of battle, of war, of having to go against his beliefs for the sake of a war no one wanted.

Even now, long after the transmission ended, Acheron felt something hot and wet on his cheeks. It took a while to realize that it was tears. Even now, he stood there, wept -- wept for Satine, for their child, for the younglings and older Jedi he had slaughtered, for Anakin -- he wept for all of them, if only because, in the end, it was all he could do.


	40. Chapter Thirty Nine: Discovery and Revisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the newly minted Darth Acheron goes to Mustafar to deal with the Separatists, and Anakin's day continues to get worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This was actually a semi-difficult chapter to write. Hope you like. :)

Mustafar was a vision of hell.

Below, almost everything was pure metal and lava. Even now, Acheron could not help but wonder why the Separatists would choose to go to such a place. Desperation, he supposed.

Next to him, R2-D2 whirred and beeped. Acheron gave him a sympathetic smile. "I know, Artoo," he said, "But the Chancellor's orders were clear."

A faintly judgmental-sounding toodle.

"You'll need to stay behind this time, Artoo," Acheron said, softly. "I need to do this alone."

A plaintive beep.

"I know. But someone has to guard the ship."

It was almost funny how he had gone from seeing Artoo as just a droid to one of his dearest friends and companions. But even now, as they landed, as he cautioned Artoo to stay behind and watch the ship, Acheron could not help but feel a pang of regret that he couldn't bring Artoo along this time. But that was the way it had to be, he supposed. For duty's sake.

He only prayed the Force would now forgive him for what he was about to do.

 

***

It was arriving back on Coruscant, long after they managed to get past the remaining clone troopers (even now, Anakin hated it. Hated having to fight them – some would call it silly, but in a way, these troopers had become almost like his brothers during the war. Cutting them down felt almost like cutting out a part of himself), that he saw her. Even now, seeing Padme again, weary and almost haggard-looking and sad, he was overcome with relief and anger at the same time. In the end, he could only settle for a weak, almost exhausted, “Where were you today?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, so softly – almost just as inaudibly.

“Every moment we’ve fought this war you’ve been there,” Anakin said, fury beginning to rise in spite of himself, “Where were you today?” He knew it was unfair to blame Padme, and yet at the same time, even seeing the carnage, even seeing the Jedi Temple in flames, he felt almost sick.

“I was late,” Padme said, sadly. “I already sensed that they were going to attack the Temple. I tried to stop it, but...it was too late.”

Even now, Anakin walked towards her, placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I guess it’s just...” He took a deep breath. “It’s a bit too much to take in.”

“I know.” Even now, the way Padme spoke, it was almost as if she had known the sight too well. No doubt when Sidious had collected her at Naboo. Or on other missions.

Even now, turning towards Master Yoda, Anakin said, “We’re going to need to change the recall beacon. I...” He sighed. “I just hope I can still do it.”

It was entering the Temple that they saw movement. Anakin ignited his lightsaber, half-expecting it to be another clone, only to sigh in relief and deactivate it as soon as he saw Satine and Bail Organa. “Are the two of you all right?”

“We are alive, at least,” Satine said wryly, if almost...sadly. “Palpatine has declared himself Emperor. Now...now I doubt events could possibly get any worse.”

If long ago one had told Anakin that Palpatine, one of his dearest friends, would actually become Emperor and declare the first Galactic Empire, Anakin wouldn’t have believed it. If anything, Palpatine was (had been, really) a good man. A brilliant man, really, eager to preserve democracy and help the Republic. But this...

Anakin swallowed quickly, past the sudden lump in his throat. “We should get to work on changing the recall beacon,” he said, “I don’t think we have much time.”

Even now, seeing the interior of the Jedi Temple was enough to make Anakin almost want to vomit. To see the dead bodies of the Jedi spread out in such a manner, even the younglings -- why the younglings? Why did they have to kill the younglings as well? -- was enough to make him feel sick. Only Satine’s reassuring hand on his shoulder was enough to keep him from actually throwing up.

“How could they?” And even now, even though his words sounded so utterly hollow in the Temple, they were the only words he could truly say in the end.  _How could they? How could they do this? How --_

Master Yoda said nothing. If anything, he seemed quiet -- too quiet. Even now, that scared Anakin -- to see the wise, powerful Master Yoda unable to truly say anything, not even a pithy word of advice

_which he normally would have had some degree of issue with. now at the very least, he would have welcomed it._

was enough to break his heart.

Yoda knelt by one of the younglings’ bodies, a boy with reddish-gold hair, and closed his eyes. Even now, doing the same to a similar youngling, a young girl with dark brown hair, as well as Knight Serra Keto

 _All his friends and comrades,_ gone --

it was then that Anakin noticed. Some of the wounds on the bodies -- the wound on Serra Keto’s body, in particular, was too clean to be a blaster bolt. Could it be --

“No.” Even now, Anakin didn’t want to believe it. “No...it can’t be. One of our own would never -- ’’

“What do you mean, Anakin?” Padme sounded concerned now. “What’s wrong?”

“It looks like a lightsaber did this. But you -- you were off Coruscant at the time, right?”

“Yes.”

“Which means one of our own -- but who could have -- who would have -- ’’ Even now, Anakin felt nauseous, so nauseous, that he almost couldn’t think straight.

Creases seemed to appear on Yoda’s brow. “Know already you do.”

“No, I don’t!” But even now, something deep in Anakin said that Yoda was right.  _You already know. You just don’t want to admit it._

And how could he? Obi-Wan was a good man, a wonderful man, an honorable man -- he would never betray the Republic, or the Jedi Order. He couldn’t possibly --

“We should reset the recall beacon first,” Anakin said, “But after that...I want some answers, Master Yoda.”

“Answers would only bring you pain.”

“Then it is pain that I have  _earned_. Please, Master Yoda.”

For a moment, he could have sworn that something along the lines of tears pricked Master Yoda’s eyes -- those inscrutable, unreadable eyes. “Very well. But reset the recall beacon we must -- by doing so, more lives we could save.”

“I know.”

The Clone Wars had already hammered this into him all too well. If anything, there were too many unpleasant memories involving it he would prefer to stamp out.

And yet...

It took simple mechanical skills, along with the work of the Force, to change the recall beacon settings, from COME HOME to RUN AND HIDE. Even now, Anakin could not help but somewhat sigh with relief. He may have been unable to save Serra and Aayla

_and Ahsoka -- please, Ahsoka, be all right -- he had already lost her once at Mortis. he couldn’t afford to lose her again._

but at the very least, he could save more lives that way.

Even now, as he moved to check out the recordings, Padme placed a hand on his arm. “Anakin, you don’t need to go through with this if you don’t want to.”

“I know,” Anakin said, softly, “But I need to know who’s behind this. At the very least, we can get some answers.”

Padme merely nodded -- if anything, she seemed close to tears. If it had been Ahsoka or even Satine, he would have found some way to console them.

Perhaps with Padme, it wasn’t too late to start.

Even now, he could feel Padme’s surprise even as he drew her into a quick, reassuring hug; for a moment he was tempted to pull away, but she smiled instead.

“It’s all right,” she said, “I just...I haven’t really been hugged much. I...thank you.”

Anakin drew away from her, wondering, almost, what Sidious must have put her through. Perhaps he was better off not knowing that way.

Taking a deep breath, he activated the holorecordings. Even now, he could see a dark figure striding through the Temple almost like a ghost at a banquet, or a spirit of death, the wrath of the Sith itself, with clone troopers behind him. He could see the Jedi, saw Cin Drallig, the Temple lightsaber instructor

_Obi-Wan’s lightsaber instructor_

draw his lightsaber. “Younglings, quick! You need to leave!”

“We’re not leaving you, Master.” A younger girl, probably around eight or so, with short jet-black hair.

Anakin could see the look of sheer amazement on Padme’s face -- the amazement even as the younglings took up arms to help defend the Temple. And the subsequent look of shock as they were cut down, so ruthlessly, by the clone troopers’ blaster bolts, by the cloaked figure’s lightsaber.

Even now, Anakin wanted to turn off the recordings, wanted to stop it, but he couldn’t. Not now. He had to know who was doing this.

There was no mercy. Young and old Jedi alike, cut down by blasterfire or the blue blade of a lightsaber. And then, finally...

The cloaked figure stood there, solitary, almost sad -- almost ancient and alone. He turned to the clone troopers. “Go,” he said, in an all too familiar Coruscanti accent, “I need to check in with Lord Sidious. I’ll be back shortly.”

_No. He couldn’t possibly --_

But even now, as the figure removed his hood and knelt before the hologram of Lord Sidious, Anakin’s fears were confirmed.

It was Obi-Wan.

His master, a paragon for good, perhaps the bravest, kindest man that Anakin had ever known, had fallen to the Dark Side. He had betrayed the Republic and everything it had stood for. He had allied himself with the Sith.

_No, Force, please, no -- make it stop --_

“The traitors have been destroyed, Lord Sidious,” Obi-Wan said, and even now, Anakin could have sworn that his voice was trembling. As if he was on the verge of tears. “Peace has been restored to the Republic.”

“Good, good.” Even now, that voice sounded too familiar -- Palpatine’s voice. Palpatine was a Sith Lord now -- how could Anakin have missed it? How could they have missed it?

 _I shouldn’t have gone away. I should have stayed. At the very least...Sidious could have taken me in Obi-Wan’s stead._ He doubted it would have been any better, he knew, but even so, at the very least, it could have stopped this.

“Now, Lord Acheron,” Sidious said, and even now, Anakin’s heart skipped a beat -- _Acheron?_  So Obi-Wan was a Sith Lord now -- he didn’t know why this surprised him. “Go to Mustafar, and wipe out Viceroy Nute Gunray and the Trade Federation. Only then will our Empire have peace.”

 _Empire? No. No._ But even those words confirmed to Anakin what somehow, he should have already known. The Republic had fallen. The world as he had known it had ended.

“I will,” Obi-Wan said, calmly, almost as humbly as he would have said such a thing back when they were still in the Jedi Order -- when he and Obi-Wan were on the same side. “My Master.”

“Good. Good.”

The hologram of Chancellor -- Emperor -- Palpatine, now Darth Sidious, winked out of existence. Obi-Wan stood, seemingly very old now, very tired, very -- bizarrely enough -- kind and sad, so at odds with what he had just done

_betrayed the Republic, betrayed us all_

and finally, Anakin brought himself to switch off the holorecording. He had seen everything he needed to see.

He was tired, so damnably tired -- he felt like he had swum the stormy seas of Kamino itself. At the very least, he almost wished that the clones had shot him, that they had ended his life on Utupau then and there; not that that would have changed anything, but even so --

They stood, for such a long while, looking at the now-ended transmission, before Anakin could finally gather the words necessary to speak. He never thought it would come to this. Obi-Wan, the perfect Jedi Knight, Obi-Wan, the consummate Jedi survivor, Obi-Wan, the perfect Jedi, Obi-Wan –

Even now, it was too much for him to take in. He could feel Padmè’s hand gently squeeze his shoulder, and Satine, dear Satine, seeming to try her damndest to not lose her composure...

“How could he?”

And even now, he realized how weak the words actually were, considering everything else. Nothing would be able to sum up the situation. Nothing ever would.

 _Nothing ever will_.

Yoda, however, seemed as if he could have been carved from stone. “Warned, you were.”

“I know, Master Yoda. But...”

“Go on, Knight Skywalker.”

Even now, though, finding the right words was difficult. He didn’t know whom to condemn – the Order for being such fools, himself for not spotting the warning signs

 _but how could he have even known, after all? Obi-Wan was far too good at disguising his emotions. A benefit – or a curse, depending on your point of view – of being in the Order for far too long_  –  _you lose yourself._

or…

Maybe there was no one to condemn. And yet, somehow...

“I should have just let him kill me.”

“What?” Satine’s voice cut through the silence – her usual composure was gone, replaced by sheer shock that Anakin would even suggest such a thing.

“On Geonosis. I should have just let Dooku kill me – or that space battle above Mandalore – at least I wouldn’t have been a burden to him then.” Even now, Obi-Wan’s words from the transmission echoed in his mind –  _soon I shall be strong enough_  – as well as Anakin’s own words to Qui-Gon before they left for Mandalore.  _I don’t want to be a problem…_

And yet he was. He could still feel the occasional stabs of jealousy from Obi-Wan at times, and even now…

“Hardly your fault this was.” Yoda’s voice was hard, however, completely at odds with the seeming gentleness of his words. “Chose this, Master Kenobi did.”

“How can you say that about him? He…he looks to you as the father he never had – ’’

“True, this is,” Yoda said, his voice seeming to soften. And for a moment, Anakin could have sworn that he saw not the wise, inscrutable, borderline frightening (at least as a child, though he tried not to show it) Jedi Master that he was useful, but simply, almost, a tired, weary creature, ancient and kind, yet sad, worn down by the betrayals of both his beloved pupils. He seemed to be the least happy with Dooku’s death, if only because of what it represented. And even now, looking into Yoda’s eyes, Anakin knew what he had to do.

He was the Chosen One, after all. And if he could not take down Sidious, what kind of Jedi was he?

“Send me to kill Sidious,” he said. “I won’t fail you. I promise.”

Even now, he could still remember his words at Shmi’s gravesite – words that seemed to return if only to taunt him.  _I promise, I won’t fail again…what a bitter joke…_

“Ready to face Lord Sidious, you are not – and never will be.”

“Send me to face him! I can’t – I  _won’t_  kill Obi-Wan.” There was too much history between them to simply throw away in one duel.

“I will go with you,” Satine said. “He is, after all…he is very important to me.”

And even now, Anakin could sense it – clear as day. Satine’s pregnancy – he had no doubt who was the father.

“I’m sorry, Satine,” he said, “I am so sorry.”

“There is no time for apologies,” Satine said. “I will go with you.” She paused. “But what of you, Master Yoda? What will become of you?”

“Go, I will, to face Lord Sidious.”

“But you’ll never survive! He managed to kill multiple Jedi on his own – what chance will you have?”

“True that is,” Yoda said, “But apart – a chance we may yet create.”


	41. Chapter Forty: The Duel Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which all the really bad shit happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Hope this lives up to your expectations!

When the Separatists had let Sidious’ apprentice into their bunker, they had no idea what they were truly in for. If anything, Gunray had had an itching feeling that something was going to go wrong, but he had brushed it off as nervousness. And if anything else, he was eager to collect whatever reward Sidious was going to offer – they had suffered enough, after all. And they’d done what they had said, and –

But the moment Acheron had closed the doors behind him using the Force and removed his hood, Gunray already knew he was in trouble. Obi-Wan Kenobi was underneath that hood. And in those eyes – Gunray already knew he would expect no mercy from this Sith Lord.

The best thing to do was run. But how could he, when there were no exits to be found?

Even now, at the end, watching his fellow Separatists be cut down ruthlessly as they begged for mercy, Gunray was already making his way towards the door. Some had called him slimy and a coward more than once, but if anything, he would do anything to avoid whatever fate Acheron had in mind for him at the moment.

Unfortunately for him, Acheron was too quick for him. Even now, backed into a corner, Gunray found himself babbling, begging. “The war is over,” he said, looking pleadingly into Acheron’s eyes. “Lord Sidious promised – he promised that we would be left in peace – ’’

For a moment, he could have sworn he saw Acheron – Obi-Wan Kenobi – falter. But then the cold, merciless mask came back into place. “I’m sorry,” the Sith Lord said, far too calmly, “But I’m afraid I have no choice.”

And then Gunray felt the lightsaber go through, and then nothing at all.

***

Even now, looking out over the balcony long after the slaughter, Darth Acheron could not imagine how it could have come to this. He half-expected to be happy, or at least relieved, once the Clone Wars were finally over. And yet even now, the sound of Nute Gunray pleading with him for mercy stuck in his mind.  _Lord Sidious promised us peace..._

Who would he be to kill a helpless opponent, anyhow? He had his reasons, of course – if anything, it was the right thing to do. The sensible thing to do. The Senate had been unable to contain them, restrain them, stop them from preying on the weak, from scheming, from everything they had done. In a way, the Separatists had to die so the galaxy could live in peace.

And yet...

Acheron stood looking over the balcony, praying, at the very least, that what he did wasn’t the wrong thing. That he hadn’t chosen wrong. That he would not have to fight Anakin or Satine.

And yet at the same time, he sensed them, coming closer and closer. He sensed them. He felt them. He did not blame them, if anything, for having to come and fight him. If anything, they were doing their duty, nothing more.

Acheron closed his eyes, sparing some time to weep, one last time. Weeping for the slaughtered Separatists who begged him for mercy, weeping for Anakin, weeping for Satine, weeping for all of them.

He wept for Anakin and Satine most of all.

***

“I do not like this idea of bringing weapons to negotiations.”

Even now, en route to Mustafar, Anakin could not help but agree. Not with the matter of Satine’s statement exactly -- if anything, he was never quite the negotiating type, much to Satine and Obi-Wan’s consternation.

 _Obi-Wan..._ Even the very name sent pangs of guilt, of hurt, of anger and grief, through Anakin’s heart, and it took all his effort to not let a tear fall.

He couldn’t afford to cry. Not when there was a mission to be done.

“If it comforts you,” Anakin said, a weary smile gracing his face, “Neither do I.” He sighed. “I never thought Obi-Wan and I were going to...” He trailed off; he didn’t even want to say the words  _fight_  or  _duke it out_  or anything of that sort.  _Obi-Wan is going to be all right. Obi-Wan is going to be all right._ And yet at the same time, he wasn’t certain if that was the case or if it was just him telling himself lies to dull the pain a bit.  _How could he, how absolutely could he –_

Satine gave a strained chuckle. “You continue to be an odd man as always, Anakin.” Then she grew more somber. “If fate is on our side, this may not need to come to blows at all. There has, after all, been enough suffering for a lifetime.”

“Then let’s hope fate’s on our side,” Anakin said. “Just...be careful out there. And carry this -- just in case.”

Even now, handing Satine the Echani vibroblade, he felt uneasy. Even such a simple action felt as if he was manipulating Satine into killing her own husband, which he didn’t want. If anything, he mostly wanted Satine to be safe. Satine was a good woman, a strong and brave woman, but her views -- if they hadn’t gotten her in trouble before, they would now. He didn’t want to believe that Obi-Wan would possibly kill Satine for seemingly “getting in his way”, but knowing people like Dooku and Grievous and the Zabrak Maul -- they weren’t going to show mercy.

And Satine dying...

After his mother, after Aayla and Serra, after Ahsoka, after Obi-Wan

_he had not died in body, but he had died in spirit_

he couldn’t afford to lose anyone else.

Satine gave him a quizzical look.

“I found it on Jabiim,” Anakin said. “Quite a while ago. I think you’ll need this.”

“Those that bring weapons to negotiations -- ’’

“I know,” Anakin said, “But if Acheron attacks, you might need it. That or a lightsaber.”

A faint smile seemed to show on Satine’s face. “That is true enough, I suppose. But I do promise, Anakin, should the meeting go awry, I will signal you.” As if sensing Anakin’s confusion and irritation, she said, “Considering the circumstances, I believe it’s best you stay put. Nothing good is going to come of adding a Jedi to the mix.”

“Either way, Acheron’s going to suspect a trap.”

“True,” Satine said, “But traps can work in your favor, as you well know.”

That, Anakin supposed, was a good enough argument.

Even so, cramping himself below the control panel of Satine’s ship, trying not to be seen while still keeping tabs on the interaction between Obi-Wan and Satine, he could not help but feel that somehow, this was going to go awry.

_Please Force, let Satine be all right..._

But even then, a sinking feeling told him that the Force was not on their side this day.

***

 Even facing Acheron, Satine could already sense that something was wrong with him. She never wanted to bring a weapon to negotiations -- it was almost counter to the spirit of negotiations. And yet at the same time, something in her told her that this was not going to be like the other instances -- not that negotiating had always worked out in her favor.

“Satine.” Acheron’s voice was flat, almost cool. “I never wanted it to come to this.”

“Neither did I. But I have no choice -- I saw what you did back in the Temple. Killing younglings -- I expected so much more from you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You are a good man -- you are not a killer. If you have any good left in you at all, you will surrender and come back with us to stand trial for your crimes.”

Acheron merely looked at her, with those sad, almost inscrutable eyes, eyes that seemed to reflect almost nothing at all.

“Obi-Wan, I am not going to say this again,” Satine said. “Surrender or die.”

Silence. Even now, looking into her husband’s eyes, Satine Kryze questioned whether or not she had ever known him at all.

“So this is it,” Acheron said, coldly, “After all we’ve been through -- you turn on me.” He sighed. “I never thought you would have to resort to violence, Satine.”

“Neither did I,” Satine said. “But it seems that changed quickly.”

Acheron drew his lightsaber from his belt and ignited it -- even now, looking into the blue blade, Satine knew that she didn’t stand a chance. But at the very least she could buy some time. And, perhaps, find backup.

 _Anakin. Quickly._  She gestured towards the ship, towards Anakin.

And Anakin walked -- no,  _sprinted_  -- down the loading ramp towards Satine’s side, lightsaber blazing.

Acheron looked over him, and for a moment, Satine could have sworn that she saw a flicker of hurt in Obi-Wan’s eyes. “You...brought him here?”  _To kill me?_ he was no doubt saying, at least in his eyes.

“I had hoped,” Satine said, “That it would not come to blows. But you leave me no choice.”

In contrast, Anakin seemed less at ease. In the interest of fairness, neither was Satine, but years in politics, years at war, had conditioned her to hide it. To appear -- or even feel -- numb to such emotions. Anakin, on the other hand -- Satine didn’t need the Force to feel the sheer grief and fury and confusion pouring off the boy. She felt the urge to reach out, to comfort him, but not now. Not here.

“You’re going to pay for all the Jedi you killed today, Acheron,” Anakin said, his tone seething with anger. “Every last one of them.

“And you call yourself a Jedi? You know that vengeance is not the Jedi way.”

“I only do what I must.”

“Indeed? We’ll put that to the test soon enough.”


	42. Chapter Forty One: To The Bitter End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which shit continues to get worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: I'm sorry, guys. I'm so sorry. *Buries face in hands* I...possible trigger warning for violence. Seriously. If you have a weak stomach, you may want to skip this. I'll admit that's one part of it that actually made me nauseous writing it. I'm so sorry.

Even now, dueling Acheron, Satine could not help but be impressed by how well Acheron was keeping up with them. Even now, with Satine using all the weapons at her disposal (the Clone Wars had taught her to be prepared, at the very least, for what was going to happen), she doubted it would be enough. Even now, after what she had gone over with Anakin in the ship, she doubted that it would be enough.

Acheron was simply too powerful. It was as if killing every Jedi in the Temple had only served to make him stronger. Even now, she could not help but wonder what he had hoped to achieve with such bloodshed. What anyone could have hoped to achieve.

Still, Satine persisted. She purposely avoided hitting Acheron, instead trying, vainly, to persuade him to surrender. Not that Acheron would listen.

“I’m sorry, Satine,” he said, “But I don’t believe there’s any other choice.”

“There’s always a choice.”

“I have to protect the Republic. I’m certain that you would understand.”

“I do,” Satine said, “But this is wrong. It doesn’t matter how you want to justify it, Obi-Wan – what you’ve done this day is  _wrong_.”

Acheron merely looked back at her, unreadable, cold, so unlike the man that she used to know. Obi-Wan could be a foolish man at times, yes, but he was also kind. Well-intentioned. Good.

This man – this man was none of those things.

Even now, she could sense Acheron beginning to weaken. And yet at the same time –

She could feel a lightsaber blade go through her arm, the searing pain, and a Force push, sending her flying backwards into the shuttle – and then nothing.

***

“No.”

Even now, Anakin ran towards Satine, almost dropping his lightsaber in his haste. He dropped to his knees, checking frantically for a pulse. It was there, but it was faint, erratic. Satine was dying. And Obi-Wan, his Master, someone he might as well have called his father, had done this to her.

“Obi-Wan.” Even now, Anakin struggled to speak, unwilling to believe that what had happened had happened – right in front of him. “Obi-Wan...what have you  _done_?”

“Only as much as I had to.”

“You hurt her!”

“She was a traitor, Anakin. An enemy of the state. I...” For a moment, the newly minted Darth Acheron seemed to hesitate – for a moment, Anakin could swear that he saw the old traces of the man that Obi-Wan was – that brave, good man that he was before, everything that could have been, before Palpatine took hold of him.

And in those merciless amber eyes, Anakin could see, for a moment, everything _Palpatine_  could have been as well.  _Am I fooling myself? Am I so blinded by everything the Chancellor and I shared before_ ,  _that I am more than willing to believe he can be redeemed? I_ must _be fooling myself._

But then again, it wasn’t outside the realm of impossibility.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, “You don’t have to continue this. Come with me – with us. Leave this all behind.”

“You know that’s something I cannot do. Anakin,” Acheron said, “My duty is to the new Emperor. It grieves me to have to fight you, but if I must...I will.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way – ’’

But by then, Acheron had ignited his lightsaber. Blue plasma, just like Anakin’s own. Anakin sighed, blearily rubbed his temples – if anything, Acheron was doing his job for him.

“Obi-Wan, you just bring this on yourself...” he murmured, before re-igniting his lightsaber and somersaulting through the air to meet the newly minted Acheron’s blade.

And the duel continued once more.

 


	43. Chapter Forty Two: Immolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things reach their nadir in terms of getting worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Hope this meets your expectations. Also decided to include Acheron telling Anakin to run if only because of another pet peeve with the movies -- Obi-Wan leaving Anakin for dead. I guess I can understand why he did it somewhat, but it still bothered me a bit. Not to mention, it seemed only right for these versions of Obi-Wan and Anakin -- I'm thinking that if Acheron hadn't told him to leave, Anakin wouldn't have run. And even then, I don't think he would have left his former Master behind.

Even now, remembering his visions of dueling one with a blue blade, the dreams that haunted him so, Anakin could not help but wonder why, just why, he hadn't realized that it was Obi-Wan. But then again, was there not some degree of reason for it? Obi-Wan would never have turned to the Dark Side -- at least, not the Obi-Wan that Anakin knew. Force, dear Force Obi-Wan was gentle and selfless and ridiculously funny at times when you got to know him and too clever yet self-deprecating by half, self-deprecating almost to the point of self-loathing and dear Force, how could he possibly become this?  
  
Even in that moment, Anakin could swear that he could hear Master Yoda's voice,  _"Know already, you do."_  Obi-Wan had already, steadily, begun breaking down as the Clone Wars progressed. This was just the point where the symptoms fully manifested.

"Anakin." For a moment, Anakin could have sworn he heard anguish in Acheron's voice. "Don't make me destroy you. You know too well you're no match for the power of the Dark Side."

"I've heard plenty of it in my lifetime," Anakin snapped. "I never thought, however, that I would hear it from *you*."

Acheron was already making him fray -- more than, perhaps, even Asajj Ventress ever had during their first duel. " _You have hate...you have anger...but you don't use them."_

And there was a reason for that. Those emotions led one down a darker path. And Anakin was more than unwilling to fall today -- literally or figuratively.

And yet he wanted to kill Acheron -- it wasn't about duty anymore, but hatred, anger, resentment, boiling from inside. Anger at how little Obi-Wan thought of him, anger on the behalfs of Jar-Jar, Satine, the younglings, and yes, even the Separatists -- still, Anakin fought to control it. It was best, after all, to try and not be overwhelmed by the sheer boiling anger and hatred in his head.

 _Come now, Master,_  he thought, smirking as he did so, leaping atop one of Mustafar's many pieces of floating machinery.  _Let us see what left you have to teach me. What better, after all, to share it with a former pupil who can't refuse?_

Acheron seemed to hesitate for a moment, shiver and close his eyes, to waver as if Anakin's words had, somehow, inflamed him too much. Then he followed suit, leaping after Anakin.

And thus, the duel continued.

***

Both Darth Sidious and Master Yoda dueled in the Senate chamber, unwilling to give up. It was more than just one creature against a Chancellor that was really a Sith Lord all along. If anything, it was the epitome of the Light Side against the Dark Side itself. A Master of the Light against the Master of the Dark.

They dueled, lightsabers clashing back and forth. Occasionally, Sidious would get resourceful and send Senate pods careening towards Yoda, which the Jedi Master was barely able to dodge in time.

And finally, when he had dodged another pod careening towards him and landed on the Chancellor’s – now Emperor’s – podium, Sidious sent Force Lightning at him.

It took all of Yoda’s strength to stop it.

Even now, though, trying to restrain the energy was too much. And the both of them fell.

Palpatine was able to cling to the ledge before he fell. But Yoda wasn’t as lucky. No matter how much the smaller Jedi Master struggled, he fell. And fell. And fell. It was only through luck he managed to recover his balance on a distant pod. Even now, hearing the sound of Sidious’ ordering his men to search for him, he knew that he could not stop to recover for very long.

It was later that Bail Organa pulled up, in a turn that would have surely impressed Anakin Skywalker. “Master Yoda,” the Senator said, “It’s wonderful to see you. Where are Satine and Anakin?”

“To Mustafar they have gone. To deal with Sidious’ apprentice.”

“What?” Even now, Bail Organa sounded disbelieving.

“There is no time to waste, Senator. Go, we must, or kill us they most certainly could.”

The Senator merely nodded. “Get in.”

And even now, as they drove away from the Senate building, Master Yoda already knew that he had lost. If anything, he had lost because in a way, he hadn’t truly understood. The Sith had grown, the Sith had adapted. The Jedi, meanwhile, were so frightened of change, so frightened of who and what they were –

There was still hope, of course. Even darkness could not endure forever.

As long as there was darkness, there would always be light to combat it.

***

Back and forth. Back and forth. Blue blade against blue blade, Force trick against Force trick. Even now, Anakin could hear the alarms going off, almost as if they had...broken something.

He had to suppress a groan. He wasn’t going to die in this wretched place -- not by a long shot. And neither was Obi-Wan.

 _No_ , a voice told him,  _Obi-Wan is gone. Only Acheron remains._ And yet somehow, Anakin didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t believe it -- after everything they had gone through together, Obi-Wan had become...this.

They were balanced precariously along that beam again, Acheron’s smile as feral as the nexu’s in the arena. “It seems,” the Sith Lord said, “You’re out of ideas. Surrender.” There seemed to be a softness in his eyes for a moment, as if, almost, he didn’t want to fight Anakin any longer either. “You need not die.”

And Anakin knew, somehow, that he was out of ideas. They were balanced, precariously, over a river of lava. Everything they could hold onto for support was collapsing all around them. And he was about to fall -- they would both fall, surely, to their deaths.

Or maybe not?

Anakin gave him an equally cocky smirk. “You’re wrong,” he said, “I’m not done yet.”

And he leapt from the pillar, using the Force to concentrate his fall onto one of the droids that had come to life -- one of the many pieces of machinery that was now floating in the lava. He wasn’t going to die. Not by a long shot.

Acheron sighed, almost like in the old times, with Obi-Wan reproving him for his recklessness, before following suit.

Now, floating atop the droids in the lava, leaping from droid to droid, matching one another’s movements almost perfectly, blades clashing furiously, driven only by a need to survive -- Anakin was almost memorizing Acheron’s movements,  _Obi-Wan’s_  movements -- the heat of their proximity, the sounds of clashing lightsabers, the way they leapt from structure to structure, almost as if it was a game, and not a duel.

Finally,  _finally_ , Anakin reached the lava bank.  _Higher ground_.  _Good news._ Anakin took a breath and leapt out of the way. And then he saw the look in Acheron’s eyes, that hungry, almost predatory look -- that glazed look, almost like Ahsoka when she had been corrupted on Mortis, when she had proclaimed without meaning it that she didn’t need him anymore --

Only it was worse. Acheron wasn’t just possessed or corrupted -- Acheron genuinely _hated_  him. Anakin could see everything -- the buried fear of him and what he could have become

_could I have become Vader instead? even the thought was enough to make him nauseous._

the jealousy of him seemingly “stealing” Qui-Gon

_but why would I? and even now, some of the old rage was bubbling up inside him -- **all I wanted was for him to love me, to accept me, and yet he couldn’t, didn’t want to --**_

the disappointment that he wasn’t the Padawan Obi-Wan wanted him to be

_was it all a lie? did he always hate me because I was nothing like the rest of them? even now, Anakin couldn’t help but be glad that that wasn’t the case._

and so much more.

And yet somehow, even seeing all of that in Acheron’s eyes

 _the awful mixture of lies and truth -- even now, Anakin didn’t believe it was the truth; Obi-Wan --_ Acheron --  _would never be that petty_  --

Anakin couldn’t bring himself to hate him.

“Master,” he said, finding his throat almost dry. “Obi-Wan. Please don’t -- ’’

But it was to no avail.

Acheron leapt.

And without thinking, almost on instinct, Anakin’s lightsaber went clean through Acheron’s limbs. Even now, watching Acheron tumble, near-limbless-save-for-his-mechanical-hand, broken, defeated, down towards the lava bank, Anakin stared at his lightsaber -- almost unbelieving. He deactivated his lightsaber, hooked it to his belt -- he couldn’t afford to throw it away. While such a gesture would have been grand in times of old, he couldn’t afford to do so right now. He couldn’t help but have a feeling more trouble was on the way.

And even now, he headed towards where Acheron was struggling by the lava bank. Even now, watching Obi-Wan’s hair begin to char, watching the flames begin to consume him -- even looking into those eyes, for a moment, Anakin could swear that they turned back to the color of Obi-Wan’s eyes before. Eyes as blue as a summer sky.

And it was then that Anakin remembered -- this wasn’t a monster. What Obi-Wan

_Acheron_

had done was monstrous -- there was no doubt about it. And yet somehow, despite everything, everything that had happened --

Anakin still couldn’t help but love him.

This was the man who had taken him in after Qui-Gon had died. This was the man who had nurtured him over the years, made him into the Jedi he was now. This was the man who had been there for him no matter what happened -- in spite of the constant disapproval and early jealousy and even fear, Obi-Wan had still loved him. Had kept his promise to Qui-Gon to take Anakin into his care -- to raise him to the light. Had, along with Anakin, won so many battles in the Clone Wars and accomplished so much.

_How could I possibly let him die?_

“Anakin...” Acheron’s voice sounded almost weak, quiet, near-drowned out by the roaring of the flames, even as he continued to struggle up the lava bank.

“Master,” Anakin said, “It’s going to be all right. Just take my hand.” And yet even now, the closer he got, the farther that Acheron seemed to slip away. “You’re going to be all right.”

“Anakin,  _go_.”

“What?” How could Acheron even expect him to leave like this? He couldn’t leave Acheron -- Obi-Wan -- to die. Not like this.

“ _Go._ He’s here.”

And then Anakin felt him. In the Force, he could feel Darth Sidious, the former Chancellor

_now Emperor_

approaching in his shuttle.

“I won’t leave you, Master.”

Acheron smiled weakly. “Loyal to the end. A bit too loyal for your own good.” Then he firmed his voice. “Leave me behind, Anakin. I can’t afford you to die because of me. Master Yoda needs you. Satine needs you. Padme... _Padme_  needs you.”

And even that was enough to loosen something in Anakin.

“Just leave me,” Obi-Wan said, “I will be all right.” A wan smile. “I promise.”

Anakin swallowed, before doing something that he never thought he would ever do in his life, if not under Obi-Wan’s tenure as his apprentice, as his brother-in-arms.

He  _ran_.

Up the lava bank, away from Sidious, near-blinded by tears, blinded by grief.

And up upon Mustafar’s landing platform, he found a familiar sight. Or rather heard it.

“Be careful, R2-D2 -- you’ll hurt her!”

“Threepio!”

Slowly, Threepio came into view, along with R2. Between them was the prone body of Satine Kryze. Even now, something in Anakin’s chest clenched.

 _Obi-Wan, what have you done_? Even now, it sounded so ridiculous. So redundant. And yet somehow, it was the only thing he could say to sum up what happened.

 _No,_ he thought,  _what have_ I  _done?_

“Is Satine all right?” Anakin asked. He knew he couldn’t save Obi-Wan -- Acheron had all but said it himself. But he could, at the very least, save the woman that Obi-Wan had loved. Hopefully he could...before it was too late.

“She is, Master Anakin,” Threepio said, “But she’s badly hurt.”

“Threepio,” Anakin said, trying to keep his voice as level, as gentle as he could, “Let me handle this. Let me take her.”

Silence.

“Of course, Master Anakin.”

Even now, taking Satine into his arms, Anakin felt her stir, if slightly, in his arms. There was a hint of life in her, throbbing in the Force. Relief stirred in him -- she was alive! And yet somehow, her life was hanging by a very thin thread.

He headed towards Satine’s Mandalorian shuttle, Threepio and Artoo following, before, once inside, setting Satine on a bed. The other adjustments were hooking her up to life support -- until they got to Polis Massa, where Satine could get medical attention, this was their best bet.

It was then that he punched in the coordinates for Polis Massa, before setting Threepio to pilot. Though the droid seemed averse to having to pilot again, Anakin knew that there was no choice in the matter. He had to look after Satine until they got to Polis Massa. And somehow, putting her on life support was just a formality.

He had to be there for Satine -- if only as a friend.

So even as Threepio reluctantly resumed cockpit duty, Anakin held onto Satine’s hand, tried to pour some of his Force energy into her if only to sustain her enough to reach Polis Massa.

“Just hold on, Satine,” he told her. “Hold on.”

Satine was strong, yes, but she couldn’t do this alone.

He would find a way to save her -- and her unborn child.

Because in between the younglings and so many others

_including Obi-Wan. he didn’t die, but he may as well have._

**_I’m so sorry, Obi-Wan. I’m so sorry --_ **

Anakin was not going to have another death this day.

Not by a long shot.


	44. Chapter Forty Three: Aftershocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anakin and Satine have a chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

She could hear the faint sound of a frantic voice, pleading with her to open her eyes. Even now, she doubted that she could find the strength. Everything seemed to hurt, to ache all over – if she was dead, dying shouldn’t have hurt that much –

“Satine? Satine, can you hear me? Satine!”

Slowly, slowly but surely, Satine opened her eyes. There, standing above her, was a familiar face -- Anakin Skywalker. The first thing she noticed about him were the bloodshot eyes and the messy hair -- he looked almost as if he had stayed up far too late that night worrying about her. Not surprising considering Anakin, but even so...Satine wished, sometimes, that he didn’t have to worry about her so much.

Then again, considering that it was Anakin, it was par for the course.

“Knight Skywalker.” Satine smiled, wanly. “I knew you’d come for me.” She sat up. “What is this place?”

“You’re at the Polis Massa asteroid colony,” Anakin said. “It’s not the best place to go, but even so...” He sighed. “It’s definitely the best place to stay so you can recuperate.”

“I see. Knight Skywalker?”

“Yes?”

“You worry too much. For all of us.”

Anakin went solemn; Satine could only imagine that he was remembering the loss of his mother. How she had been kidnapped and brutally murdered by the Tusken Raiders...and there was something else in his eyes, something darker than what she had seen even on Tatooine, when she and Obi-Wan had had to try and stir him out of his rage and desire for bloodshed.

“Anakin?”

“It was Sidious,” Anakin said, bitterly. “He set it up. All of it.” He sighed. “I would probably appreciate his abilities if he hadn’t hurt so many people as a result.”

“Indeed?” Suddenly, Satine was curious -- too curious, in fact. Too curious by half was a good way to put it. Something in her told her that she already knew, and yet at the same time, she had to at least know how much Sidious had actually set up. How thoroughly they had been played. Everyone needed to know, at least.

“Everything to the letter,” Anakin said. “He needed decoys -- that’s what Dooku and Grievous and the others were. Nothing more than decoys. Grievous...” He seemed to be taking a deep breath, as if remembering. “They were all ploys, just to draw me in. And when he couldn’t seize me, he seized Obi-Wan instead.”

“So everything that happened on Mustafar...”

“Yes,” Anakin said. “All of it was just a result of a set-up. We were tricked...every last one of us.”

And even now, Satine could only stare in sheer bewilderment at the idea, the sheer _inanity_  of it all.  _Sidious played us, all of us, like pawns in a game of dejarik..._

“I’m sorry, Satine,” Anakin said. “I shouldn’t have brought that up...”

“No,” Satine said. “There is no need for apologies. Of all the people who need to apologize for this,” she said, “It’s not you.”

Something flickered in Anakin’s eyes -- a trace of guilt, and something worse than that, sheer, overpowering  _grief_. Even now, Satine didn’t need the Force to understand that what Anakin felt,  _how_  Anakin felt...

It seemed all too similar to when Obi-Wan had returned to Stewjon and found it in ruins.

“Anakin,” she said, “What happened?”

“Obi-Wan...I...”

“What happened to him?”

“I let him go,” Anakin said. “I...I didn’t want to, but he told me to run. And I knew I had to run -- for all of your sakes. If...if it weren’t for you, for Padme, for Yoda, for the others, I wouldn’t have run.”

Even now, Satine knew she had every right in the galaxy to be angry. And yet somehow, seeing Anakin in such a vulnerable position, in such a broken state, so similar after his near-rampage at the Tusken camp, she couldn’t bring herself to shout at him. Mustafar...Mustafar had left her drained anyway.

Besides, it would be the ultimate hypocrisy to tell Anakin off in such a manner, considering that Satine herself had made similar decisions.

And yet...

In the end, the best she could do was console him, with mere empty platitudes about the importance of doing one’s duty. Even Anakin, however, didn’t seem to be able to accept them.

“I didn’t want to leave him,” he said, almost blankly -- it sounded almost like a man who had been stretched to the limits of his sanity. A broken, tired young man who was so different from the idealistic young Padawan that she knew. Mustafar had broken him. Utapau had broken him. Everything about the Clone Wars had broken him. "I never would have left him." He kept repeating it to himself, softly.  
  
"Anakin," Satine said, softly. "It's all right."

“No, it's not. I’m a Jedi.” Even now, he sounded broken, on the edge of tears. “I know I’m better than this.”

And even now, sitting next to him, Satine Kryze, for the first time in her life, didn’t know what to say.

***

It took a while before Anakin could finally calm himself -- get himself together, to collect himself, to become the Jedi Knight everyone else was used to instead of the broken, helpless, almost child-like young man he had most likely betrayed himself as. At the very least, looking into Satine Kryze’s eyes, he could only imagine that’s what he had come off as. She seemed afraid, frightened, even helpless-looking -- and even the idea that he had unintentionally inflicted that on her was enough to fill him with guilt.

“Satine,” he said, “Please forgive me for my display. I simply...”

“War is never easy. Nor are the choices made.”

“I know that,” Anakin said, “But even so...knowing is one thing. Seeing is another.” He paused, realizing that he had almost, perfectly, quoted Obi-Wan. It was almost as if the former Jedi Master’s voice was still there, in his thoughts, in his actions, haunting him.

He had half-expected Satine to write him off as a monster. To call him cold, frozen, cruel, to accuse him of leaving Obi-Wan there if only to suffer, to burn to death. But even that...he doubted that Satine would have done something like that. Although the Duchess of Mandalore had her limits

_former Duchess of Mandalore? even now, he wasn’t sure -- they were, after all, now men and women on the run from the Empire. if even Yoda couldn’t defeat Sidious, who could?_

he doubted that she was the one to blindly accuse someone without a trial. It didn’t seem to be in her character, really.

A quirk seemed to appear at the corners of Satine’s lips. “Obi-Wan did rub off on you, didn’t he?”

Anakin nodded. “For his part. Satine,” he added, “You should get some rest. Just in case.”

Satine seemed quizzical at first -- she wasn’t the type to simply lie around, so to speak, when there was much to be done. But eventually, she nodded. “Very well then. Thank you.”

It was then that Padme walked inside. “Anakin,” she said, “Let her go. She’ll be all right.”

Anakin smiled, sadly. “I don’t know.”


	45. Chapter Forty Four: The Rueful Fate of Satine Kenobi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kaida and Jinn Kenobi are born, and Satine dies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Well, we're nearing the end. I'd like to thank everyone who's stuck with me thus far. You guys have been absolutely amazing. :) 
> 
> Also, I'd definitely like to recommend numberthescars' art for this fic: http://numberthescars.livejournal.com/16770.html#cutid1. Because she did an amazing job. :3

It was morning when Satine went into labor.

Even now, trying to catch up on whatever remnants of sleep that he had, it was early in the morning when Anakin was woken up by Padme, telling him to go to the medical center. “Satine may be dying.”

“What?”

“The medical droids...” Padme sighed. “They don’t know what happened, but they’re losing her. They’re operating quickly to save the children, but I’m not sure it’ll be enough.”

So fighting the urge to grumble -- how could he possibly complain about not getting enough sleep, when the life of one of his dearest friends was at stake? -- Anakin followed Padme into the room where Satine was.

***

The pain kept pouring in, steadier and steadier. Even now, lying on the birthing table,, Satine Kryze Kenobi doubted that she had been in so much pain in her life. And yet she had to press on. She was not made the Duchess of Mandalore for giving into pain, giving into fear.

And yet even now, she could  _feel_  Obi-Wan on Coruscant, as Sidious continued to operate on him, to prepare him for...something. She knew not what, but she knew that it couldn’t possibly be good.

“Satine.” She could hear Anakin’s voice, ragged with worry, ragged with fear. Even looking up at him, she could see traces of the scared nine year old boy she knew once. “Hold on. You’re going to be all right.”

She smiled, rather weakly, up at him. “I don’t know...”

And then the pains overtook her again. Labor pains -- even now, it felt like her nerves were on fire as she continued to push -- as the medical droid encouraged her, gently, soothingly, to push.

But more than that. Obi-Wan’s construction was still underway. Could it be she had formed a bond with him? A mental bond, so much like a Master-Padawan bond, only deeper?

It was not outside the realm of possibility, she assumed.

And finally...

A boy, the medical droids had said. A beautiful, healthy baby boy. Even now, Satine remembered the names that Obi-Wan had suggested for the child. One was Jinn, after his late master, Qui-Gon Jinn.

 _Jinn._ Even now, that fit perfectly.

“Jinn...” Even now, reaching out to touch her newly born child, Satine smiled -- he was writhing now in Anakin’s arms, red in the face, wailing, and yet even now, he was beautiful...more than beautiful. How she wished that Obi-Wan was here to see this day.

And then the labor pains overtook her again.

“Satine,” Anakin murmured, “Hold on. Stay with me.” His voice cracked, almost as if he sensed -- or feared? -- that she would not survive this.

And even now, the darkness was threatening to overtake her.

She had to fight it.

Had to...

Finally, another infant was born. A girl. Even now, Satine had to chuckle -- in a way, they were both right. They were twins...even now, she could see so many possibilities. She and Obi-Wan, happy together, Padme at peace, Anakin a Master in his own right -- perhaps they would be standing together, standing tall against the darkness, and all would be well. But that...that was a thing that was never to be.

“Satine,” Anakin murmured, “Stay with me.” It was a broken repetition, the repetition of a madman, almost -- except not quite. It was the broken repetition of a child.

Satine smiled wearily. “Name her...name her Kaida.”

“Kaida...” Anakin repeated the name, almost as if testing it. “Kaida Kenobi...” He smiled through the tears that seemed to be threatening to fall. “It sounds wonderful.”

Even now, holding Jinn while Padme held Kaida, Satine could not help but realize he looked...old. As if he had matured far beyond his years. A far cry from the naive, high-spirited, cocky young Padawan that Obi-Wan had taken under his wing.

“Anakin,” Satine whispered, “Protect them. No matter what happens.”

“I will,” Anakin said. “I promise.”

Satine felt relief pour through her body. Even now, she could still see Jinn resting in Anakin’s arms, Kaida resting in Padme’s. She found herself reaching for them, almost as if swimming up towards the surface of Kamino’s tempestuous oceans, trying to stay afloat...

...only for the waves of darkness to claim her, pull her under.

And it was there, on Polis Massa, on a lone asteroid colony, surrounded by her dearest friends, those she was most glad to be with at the end of everything, that Satine Kenobi died.

***

Chaos tore through the medical room. Even now, Jinn began wailing in Anakin’s arms, while alarms continued to go off. The medical droids, if anything, seemed confused that Satine had died on the operating table like that.

_Died..._

Even now, holding Jinn in his arms, Anakin could not help but feel the old claws, the old shadow, of sheer failure begin to sink its way into his heart. He could not afford to break down, not now -- not while Jinn still needed him.

“Is there anything...any blue milk we could heat up for Jinn?”

“I’m certain it’s around here somewhere,” Padme said. “I hope.”

It was searching for a long while -- and attempting to calm Jinn, to sing softly to him; Anakin could not say that his singing was very good, but at the very least, it was worth the effort -- that Anakin finally found milk to heat up for Jinn. Even now, feeding Jinn this, the child seemed a bit quieter...calmer even.

It was no replacement for Satine’s warmth -- even remembering it was enough to send pangs of guilt through Anakin

_i promised there wouldn’t be another death, and yet_

thinking about it.

Jinn, now that he was better fed, slightly calmer now away from the alarms of the medical droids, long after the bottle was drained and thrown away, reached up and inquisitively touched his fingers to Anakin’s face.

“It’s all right, Jinn,” Anakin said, trying to keep his voice as level, as soothing as he could -- even though on the inside, his emotions were already whirling, confused, practically _screaming_. “It’ll be fine.”

Jinn frowned, almost inquisitively -- Anakin had to fight the urge to laugh and cry at the same time. The expression was almost a perfect match for Obi-Wan’s.

“It will,” Anakin said. “I promise.”

Even now, humming a Tatooine lullaby to Jinn, lulling the child to sleep, Anakin could not help but remember. Tatooine -- his mother, Shmi Skywalker, kind and gentle and warm and supportive:  _you can’t stop change, any more than you can stop the suns from setting._

And yet even now, as he cradled the now sleeping Jinn in his arms, Anakin wished he could.

 


	46. Epilogue: Full Circle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kaida and Jinn Kenobi are given to the Organas and Larses, respectively, and Anakin and Padme go to receive training from the ghost of Qui-Gon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Well, this is it. The final chapter. It's been a wonderful ride, posting all this -- thank you, all of you, for being so supportive and wonderful. There's going to be a sequel to this, by the way; don't you fear. :) Maybe when I sign up for the next AU Big Bang -- assuming I also get through NaNoWriMo. *Sighs* God help me...

 

It feels like an eternity before they finally arrive at Owen and Beru’s house. Anakin remembers going there, long ago, to search for his mother, Shmi Skywalker. Even now, though, standing before it is painful. It is almost like an old, painful reminder of his past failures. Failure to save his mother, failure to save Ahsoka (not on Mortis, but elsewhere), failure to save the Chancellor -- to save Obi-Wan from the horrible fate that awaited him, and failure to save Satine from dying in childbirth.

Failure was an apt name for all of it indeed.

But at the very least, he can try and save Jinn and Kaida. It was the least he can do for the man he looked up to, the man he loved.

Not in the way that Obi-Wan loved Satine – but the same love Obi-Wan must have felt for his comrades, once upon a time.  _And for me_?

Even thinking about it is enough to make him almost shake.

They have already dropped Kaida off at Alderaan – Anakin still remembers Bail’s words. _“We will never betray the Republic, nor the Jedi._ ” Almost speaking about the Republic and the Jedi as if they were still there, when, if anything, the opposite was true.

Anakin never wanted to believe that the Republic had become corrupt. That those who died out on the battlefield of the Clone Wars had died in vain. And yet that was the case.

He only wonders why he didn’t see.

Even now, he can still remember speaking to Padme of it, and her reply: “Neither did I.” Though she spoke about the Sith cause, believing that Sidious was creating a better galaxy, Anakin knows that in a way, their feelings are the same, though the circumstances are different.

He only wonders why he didn’t see such a thing before: they are the same. They are almost, completely, the same. Two different worlds, yes, but just as human as anyone else.

Even now, Anakin knocks on the door. It takes a while before Owen arrives, and even now, looking into Owen’s eyes, Anakin has to gather the courage to say words that should be simple to say.

“Is Beru Lars around here?”

Even long after Beru Lars has invited both Anakin and Padme in – though Owen gives Padme a few awkward looks, as if to say,  _shoot us in the back and you’ll never live to tell_ all the while. And all the while, Anakin keeps a hand on Padme’s shoulder protectively. He knows that Owen has had less than favorable encounters with Padme in the past, but even now…

Even talking with Owen and Beru, convincing them to adopt Kaida, Anakin has to leave out more than a few details – something he can’t bear to do. Granted, there was the matter of covering for Obi-Wan and Satine’s relationship, but even now…even now this is difficult.

To his relief, however, Beru is more than willing to take Jinn in. “We always wanted a son,” she said, “He will be loved with us, Anakin. I promise you.”

And even her words, her warm smile as she takes Jinn from Anakin’s arms, is enough to relax Anakin, to soothe muscles that he didn’t realize were tense.

He doesn’t want to leave. But even now, he can still remember Qui-Gon’s words as they headed to Tatooine.  _Meet me here in the Jundland Wastes._

So reluctantly, he bids farewell to Owen and Beru, and with Padme, heads deeper into the desert.

***

Qui-Gon can sense a familiar presence. Anakin’s presence. Even now, approaching him, Qui-Gon cannot help but look him up and down. He is different, far too different, from the innocent boy that he, Satine and the others picked up off of Tatooine, and the high-spirited Padawan of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

With him is Padme, formerly the apprentice of Darth Sidious, now a proud member (no doubt) of what will become the Rebellion. They will come out of hiding one day, to face the newly minted Acheron once more. It is, after all, the will of the Force.

The best he can do is quietly plead to the Force to bring the two of them joy. It will be a hard task, a thankless task, but in the end, all will be stronger for it.

The galaxy will be stronger for it, in fact.

The man Anakin Skywalker sits comfortably in the makeshift hut – a hut that Qui-Gon has guided him to. He does not know who the original owners were – the Force tells them that they are long gone, however. Dead or alive, though, he does not know.

Even now, settling on the floor of the hut, Anakin Skywalker seems pale – almost as if he has seen a ghost. One of the phantoms of Mortis, no doubt.

“This was Kitster’s house,” he says, almost in awe. “I…why would Qui-Gon bring us here?”

Padme’s lips seem to quirk in a wry smile. “The Force has a will of its own, it seems.”

“It does,” Anakin says, “But still…”

 _I thought it would have special meaning to you,_ Qui-Gon says, amused,  _considering the life you used to live._

A light seems to come over Anakin’s face, and even now, tears seem to threaten to fall – he restrains them in time, though. The portrait of a Jedi in exile who still attempts to hold onto the last shreds of dignity, of their world, that they have left. Even watching him, Qui-Gon’s heart cannot help but ache.

He was nothing more than an innocent boy at first – a boy who had never held a lightsaber, who would never have meant anyone harm. But the circumstances, the Clone Wars, had forced him to do things that he never wanted to do.

War left many scars, of course – Qui-Gon knew that far too well. But even now…

“Master Qui-Gon,” Anakin says, “It is…” He swallows. “It is good to see you again. After all this time.”

_As it is with you, Anakin Skywalker._

“You said there was a way to sustain life beyond death,” Anakin says. “And…other ways to fight against the Empire.”

_I did._

“We will need all the help we can get.” Padme is solemn now, even quiet. “We need to find a way to save the Republic.”

_Padme Naberrie. The Hand of Sidious. I never believed that I would see you again, but the Force works in mysterious ways. It is a miracle if it doesn’t have some degree of a sense of humor._

Padme chuckles, before going solemn again. “I was blind,” she says, sounding almost disgusted with herself – which she shouldn’t be, Qui-Gon muses. She did not choose to become Sidious’ apprentice – it was forced upon her. The best she can do now is attempt to fight against it. To rise above Sidious’ trickery – along with everyone else. “I followed the wrong path.”

_The fault is not your own._

“I believed that Sidious would create a better galaxy. I  _tried_  to do what I…thought he wanted. But I was wrong.” Padme’s voice seems to crack. “I followed the wrong path. I…helped him get into power.”

_That is no fault of your own. Sidious tells many lies, and the architecture is difficult to see._

“That,” Padme says, “Is obvious.” Silence. “Forgive my display, Master Qui-Gon – ’’

 _I believe,_ Qui-Gon says,  _There is no need to call me “Master”. Either of you._

Something in both Padme and Anakin relaxes.

 _Now,_ Qui-Gon says,  _Onto your first lesson: the art of the selfless. Through this, you will gain a greater understanding of how one attains life after death._

***

_Throughout the galaxy, the signs of darkness are forthcoming. On Mandalore, Duchess Satine Kryze, the secret wife of Obi-Wan Kenobi is laid to rest, with the last remnant of his former goodness with her – the necklace he carved her himself on the day of their anniversary for the want of nothing else to give, out of the finest Stewjonian materials. Back in times where the good guys and the bad guys seemed clear, and the idea of the Chancellor being a Sith Lord in disguise was unthinkable, and genocide a bad dream._

_On Tatooine, a former Jedi and a former Sith learn under the tutelage of the ghost of Qui-Gon Jinn – the art of the selfless, to name a few, and things that neither the Jedi Order nor the Sith Order would teach. Perhaps those techniques would truly balance the Force, for Anakin Skywalker was not idly named the Chosen One, and yet…_

_And far away, on Coruscant, the newly minted Darth Acheron, clad in black armor to hide his identity and sustain the remnants of him, sliced away by Anakin Skywalker, looks over the designs that the Separatists so vainly tried to protect: the designs for the ultimate killing machine. The Death Star._

_And on Dagobah, a Jedi Master lands and contemplates his new exile._

_And yet even now, there are signs of hope._

_On Alderaan, Bail Organa delivers Kaida Kenobi into the arms of his beloved queen._

_And on Tatooine, Beru and Owen Lars watch the sunset with Jinn Kenobi (now Jinn Lars) in Beru’s arms._

_Jinn and Kaida will be reunited one day._

_They will raise the galaxy out of darkness into light._

_And no matter what happens, the light will always prevail._


End file.
